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they say of love


by Gary Percesepe


that tomorrow love

will be rocks

 

that love is nothing but

headlights at night running

through the fog

 

that love is a breeze

sleeping through the

branches

 

that

when in love

 

the

ladder

reaches

to

the

moon

 

but i think we are all

underwater in love

 

out of our depth

 

tossed in little boats

by the slightest puff of wind

 

above the rippled surface

of the endless sea

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