Our Love is

Stale french bread
with moldy crust feeding
the roaches in the cupboards.
A treasure chest buried
underneath tons of mud
with fool’s gold inside.
A whale beached on a
highway, guts everywhere
with traffic stranded for hours.

It didn’t used to be that way.

It used to be a fire
raging through a night
barely contained.
An aloe plant surviving
the harshest soil and
growing despite being cut.
A favorite song that you
play on repeat every day
smiling for what seems like forever.

Leave a comment


  1. How did the whale get on the highway!? Please please please tell that story.

  2. Perhaps I am old and loved in different ways of love for so long, that I even see the first verse as a depiction of love – just a love that is in need of some fighting for itself.
    Great writing, and if it is biographical, I do hope all those metaphors transform into pure, bulging, red hearts!


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