Love 14

Love is a desolate city. 

Tumbleweed and oil spills in streets,

the gasoline of plenty

drained of itself. 

I have walked its lanes

and found it needing

of people, please. 

Leave the desolate city

not to fend for itself. 

It does not know—

I love it

well enough. 





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Endless Writer © Ata Zargarof 2020

BC, Canada