Or

the finger
the lips, the foot,
or the paper bills,
or the bank book accounts,
or the relatives, or the priest

in the house, the rails,
the forest,
the kitchen, or behind the janitor's store room
or the cave
or the garage,

whatever, if love is love,
it must survive, it may suffice

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!