J.K

As she curved upward

and as her single hand 

shaped itself as a heart

I intertwined my hand in hers

and looked deeply at whats within

As the river within whirled

I sat and pondered her history

like her ancestors and who all possessed her

who was the first to have her

and will I be the last to love her

As i gazed at her beautiful form

I noticed a crack 

and wondered what past 

could create such a horrible cut

You see, every woman is like a teacup

How many men have handled your heart?

And who was the one that caused your crack?