Pumps

The river always ends up in the sea. Even if its flow can be misleading.
The heart is just a pumping muscle.
One life is just a blink of an eye that will be lost and forgotten in the eternal oblivion of the universe.
Are you still willing to play?
Do you want to see how deep is the rabbit whole?
Follow the river and it will lead you to the sea of love. Or the sea of despair, forgetfulness, remorse and broken pumps.
Are you (still) with me?


Yours always and never,

A.