is love a microbe, by ann privateer

my mind shapes my mind
I’m thinking in shapes of love
spilling over and out

howling like an orchestra
that found the lost note
and wakes up the world

when love flies out the window
like sour dough bread microbes
unseen, unheard to fly back in

again, lost then found
who knows where while
left waiting, wondering

if life and love will return?
my computer always has answers
it can even write itself

comment on thoughts
observations more witty
than spellchecker of yore

what shall I write then?
I’m not sure, but I don’t think
I am, and the wilderness of my life

found out about this topic.
Write about love
Flying out the window

write about love flying in
Like sour dough microbes
invisible until tasted

and then, I am hooked.

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