My heart is the –

Weeping river –

Traveling through rapids

And the harsh life –

Until it reaches –

The waterfall of death.

My love for you

Is the high tide

On a rocky beach

Which is not strong enough

To erode away the assuming –

And cold boulders surrounding

Your heart.

My life is not an open book,

But loose pages

Scattered across

The four corners of your world.

Some are near…

But others are out of grasp.

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