I look for moments of love
rather than
actual love, because I don’t believe in
absurd beliefs like
I’ve always run after the idea
of romance, rather than a
person themselves,
I don’t look for love, because I know
better than that, I’ve
got better things to do,
but then I accidentally
discovered it in the palm
of your hands.

I’ve written hundreds
of poems about
this, about
love, about
false expectations and about
ideologies, but I still cannot find
a way to write about the love
cusped in your palms.


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