you reach a point
when words
thrown at you
like acid -
pungent,
and seething,
to singe
your warm heart,
turns into water
that nourishes a lily -
love grows slowly
and surely,
in every place,
even when there is
no sight of hope.
All is well,
in the well of love.
when words
thrown at you
like acid -
pungent,
and seething,
to singe
your warm heart,
turns into water
that nourishes a lily -
love grows slowly
and surely,
in every place,
even when there is
no sight of hope.
All is well,
in the well of love.
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