and so we travel



grand-mère says “only animals eat when hungry”,
and I’m hungry;
and no love seem to be bread enough.

intolerant to straight faces, upright backs with elbows barely on the edge,
we became “those who worshiped on edge”;
for no love seemed meaty enough.

they once said “and when we loved we loved with indifference” and traces of that seem to residue, but in our times when we loved we loved strategically; we held uptight, pushing back;
but no love seemed to be stubborn enough.

and so we travel.

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