In my belief, it is truly a poison
to fathom the future of a love story long finished
But as you know
love is a passion not measured in minutes
it is not a burning candle
as the wick of this desire is inexhaustible.
The pages of our novel are water-stained and browned
the cover hangs off with a cracked spine
and frayed cloth edges harrow it’s binding
I still flip back the pages
it will always be my favorite story
no matter how broken.