we both
accept it: we do not believe
that love has something to
do with it
we decide
always we decide what to do with our life
marriage included,
agreements renewed
vows restated,
on the same table
of monotony
we serve love
we slice love and take the bite
we pour love in our glasses
we drink love
we smoke love
we sigh
we converse love in the middle of the night
we are tired of love
and we sleep love
in that bed of monotony
we wake up filled with love
we have love for breakfast
we go to work carrying love inside our pockets
we were love in our faces
there is always that familiarity
in the routine of love
and with so much love sprayed in our bodies
day and night
we forget its meaning
we take it as potable water
we do not notice if it still satisfies our thirst
if it fills our hunger like the food that we prepare and eat
we declare after so many years together
still intact under the roof of marriage
we wear love we do not notice if we are dressed at all
we sleep and we are so tired
love is here and yet we do not mind it anymore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ric, I really like this poem, but how many people feel this way?