There are different wells in your heart.
Some fill with each good rain,
Others are far too deep for that.

In one well
You have just a few precious cups of water,

That ‘love’ is literally something of yourself,
It can grow as slow as a diamond
If it is lost.

Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a stranger,

Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife

Then weave them in a blanket to protect you.

There are different wells within us.
Some fill with each good rain,

Others are far, far too deep
for that.