i still haven't found what i'm looking for
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I wish my heart could have been a simple heart, like the mongoloid child who lived in a nearby village—trusting and joyful and guileless.
You are my hope and without reluctance I bare my feet with you. And longing calls me, rushing down, like glacial streams—swift and pure and unashamed.
I was wrong to dream. I was wrong about many things. But most of all I was wrong about love.