Is it possible to love so completely that another person can make you love yourself?
So many questions.
I love you.
I know not who you are, but I love you.
Can you make me love myself?
Can you hide from me?
Perhaps behind that big Cambodian tree with all the roots exposed, you could.
Or maybe in the garden of Eden, in the tree of good and evil,
Sitting on a low branch, your barefeet swinging in the air?
One day I'll find you, and we can hide together.
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