By the side of a fallen branch I found my little heart,
covered by a coat of newly fallen leaves. So surprised
was I that for a second I forgot to breathe. But when he
started to labor in his patient beating I knew I was wrong
in holding my breath. So I let the summer air into my
lungs and offered him some succor.

I asked him, “My dear heart, what are you doing under
these leaves in these woods? Why are you not behind my
heaving ribs?”

He glowed as red as a virgin’s cheek. Was it the shame of
suffering or the anger of abandonment?

But he replied in the voice of a strutting Jagger, “I’ve divested
myself from you. You heartbreaker! Always, you punished me
for your inadequacies. Every time you stared at a woman, it
was I who suffered. It was I who burnt words onto your stubbornly
silent tongue. It was I who was filled with feelings most profound.
But you, with your asymmetrical ass and crooked jaw, you never
noticed the difference between rhythm and beat. You never ever
grasped the yawning gap between lust and love.”

I hung my head with shame upon hearing words so true and precise
but could not help asking, “But dear heart, how will I live without
you? Nay, how will I ever love without you?”

Upon hearing my words filled with a sadness most real my heart stopped for
a moment, formed a council with the leaves and pondered for a minute. They
twittered. They murmured. They even burped. And finally my heart squealed
with joy and offered this unique compromise, “ Fall in love within a month with
a woman who wears red and has CC cups; I’ll return to your chest
forever.”

So here I’m, dear ladies, in search of my very own woman in red with CC cup
size. If you know someone with such dimensions will you ask her to get in
touch with my hopeless heart and save me from a lifetime of heartless love?