to your broken heart

a man stood by a lake and starred into a vision of himself and of his lover.
their reflections glowed under the moonlit sky of a December night - cold as it was, warm it really felt to be.

the man loved the woman so much, he decided to bend over and catch the casted reflection of them in the water with the use of his palm.

endlessly, he tried. over and over again. he tried. gripping, forcing, and squeezing the water into his hands.

the woman, then bent over and clasped her hands on both of their reflections, scooped the water gently - making a cup out of her hands.

softly she said:

if you desire me, don't force me out, don't shape me into a couture that i cannot bend, yet,

be gentle, be patient and be kind with me as i escape this element into another. clasp your

hands together, yet allow me to rest in your hands.



love me like this and i will love you like the water meets the sky.