It all ripples; downhill it slides, the illusion
As I watch you smile knowingly at me.
The pieces pick themselves up
Glued by the ingenuous gaze,
Reattached by the tendons of love.
It flows deeply, twisting and turning,
Growing deeper with each minute.
Why, oh why did she take a piece?
Generosity brims over your soul.
Yet now, you hold back; you refrain
From giving all in your benevolent capacity.
Aeons might pass, still I shall hope
That one day, we could piece everything up.
Together.
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