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
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem