Love Letter 77 Devoted Dory

my humble words... so ordinary,
that your face becomes a message I will spend years unravelling
even if you
reveal the riddle
how I feel you, is like the tide rubbing against a rowboat, who'd offer her oars, just to stay forever in the lapping of the ripple
and there is no moor
but you.
so simple
I must repeat it

There Is No Moor but You

and there is
no oar to argue
only the
incessant
yesssing
of the devoted dory

I Love You
Your Beloved