To those hearts who have stopped beating because of rocks,
Your fault is not that you are deeply in love
this ocean you’ve made out of affection
searches for beautiful seashells and pearls
in a puddle of mud and impurities.
Do not hate yourself for the reflection of yourself
you see in it
because it is not
you who carries the dirt
but this puddle of dry promises.
Your fault is not that
you are drowning
that you seek to be held
by a puddle which can hardly float
an empty paper boat.