He hid everything he wanted to say in a painting covered in fallen locust blossoms.
She painted locust blossoms all her life, and only understood one day.
She left, and he came back. April was filled with new beginnings and farewells.
The locust blossoms bloomed and fell, while people waited and waited.
Love is brief, lasting only one lifetime. Love is long, lasting until the next lifetime, when we’ll still be waiting.
