Uploaded September 2025 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago

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Little mother, bargain girl,
Say something to me,
Say a word that a thousand,
Ten thousand images could not convey.

As an old sage once said,
If they washed a stone with it,
Agate would grow upon it—
Your gaze, that is…

There is a second sparkle in your eyes—
If only this were the reason I had loved you.