Rumi
the minute i heard my first love story
i started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
lovers dont finally meet somewhere.
theyre in each other all along.
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a mewling babe weeps upon its mother's knee while all about smile
so live your life dear heart so that when that final curtain falls,
you may smile while all about you weep.
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i want to hold you close like a lute,
so that we can cry out with loving.
would you rather throw stones at a mirror?
i am your mirror and here are the stones.
Labels: poetry
