when ny sun

fades to gloom

corona and trump

  roaming

where we can't trace

 

my throat sour

eyelids heavy

almost put to sleep

at a busy working hour

 

then i think of  ___

___  hair 

___  voice

the way ___  says "____"

and _____

 

knowing that love is a fragile form of security

and infatuation grows upon illusion

i still jump right in

 

guess we were born to love.

 

​