Gentle hands racking on top of the water's surface
small whirlpools develop and fade away
and my obsession to create them, ever more, stays
Ears under the water as it drains away
the sounds of uncountable pebbles tumbling like in a washing machine
eroding away my troubled heart
The quiet sound and forgetfulness of today, yesterday, and tomorrow
the small pleasures of not thinking about a thing
to exist as a pebble for a moment while the world beats away
These are the small pleasures I've discovered in one moment of one day
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