-How many hearts do you carry?- He asked as he peeled the elastic skin from my body, I didn't respond to let him see himself. -What is this?- His words were full of dread as he behold the internal structure beneath my skin,
-This is building filled with art, don't be afraid please.- -How many hearts do you carry?- He questioned to my eyes,
-I carry many heart breaks but no heart.- I smiled at him,
-Heart breaks!- He repeated silently and roamed his finger around the disaster under my skin, -This building under you,- He started with trepidation in his eyes, -is like an ancient museum whose walls are filled with nostalgic art and none can presume the story behind arts, all could know is this carry the muse of broken hearts, heart breaks, your body is the museum of heart break." He elaborated and with another crush of heart in this museum he walked around and left me behind somewhere on the busy streets like a museum, a museum of heart break.