To those hearts who have stopped beating because of rocks, 
Your fault is not that you are deeply in love 

but that

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.