1 a. m.
Group Therapy Lounge.
Love is
the meshing of neuroses.
2 a. m.
Hungry Ghost Saloon.
Love is
a samba silenced by
fear of the unknown.
3 a.m.
Sunset in El Paso Cantina.
Love is
two hobbled souls
too weary to tango.
Broken.
Scattered.
Alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem