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“I have no use for these other loves. Seal them shut in jars and place them in the pantry. A reserve of love. Thank them for their love. They are so kind. Perhaps store them in the fridge For others to take. They say love is a panacea. I know it is not. Flakes of snow, no two are alike. When I am down on my knees, hopeless and angry, for the world no longer makes sense, I won't look in the pantry or fridge. It is your hand pressing on my shoulder that makes me whole, makes me forget. What trouble? What world?” — Kamand Kojouri
I have no use for these other loves.
Seal them shut in jars
and place them in the pantry.
A reserve of love.
Thank them for their love.
They are so kind.
Perhaps store them in the fridge
For others to take.
They say love is a panacea.
I know it is not.
Flakes of snow,
no two are alike.
When I am down on my knees,
hopeless and angry,
for the world no longer makes sense,
I won't look in the pantry or fridge.
It is your hand pressing on my shoulder
that makes me whole,
makes me forget.
What trouble? What world?