at the corner of the street
i will sit on that culvertuntil you, or your mother, return
on that path, earlier, together we roamed
if my death were to overtake my wait
i pray to passers-by to please leave mealone, me mummified, now a pillar of salt
to warn other lovers like me so naïve to storms
weather in higher mountains is beautiful
but could be dangerous to way-farersawe-stuck, but could be stuck in the avalanche
of love from a tiny heart with large potential
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