'It's not a thing.' She said.
'We're not in love.
It doesn't exist anymore.
Love is just something you see in the movies
& Hear in music to entertain us, to give us Hope.
Love is not something for you & I.
Our old hearts have acquired Dust & Have turned Black.
We're stuck with lonely nights beside the fire, sippin' red wine by the bottle, listening to the thunder rattle outside
(or is it the chaos within?) .
But I assure you what had happened was not love, but a rush of dopamine & We associated this rush with a face -
We thought the face was responsible when it was something happening within all along.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem