Logic
Since when did love have logic?
When did it ever make sense
or follow rules that could be counted on?
No, it is a dancer, mad with wine,
consumed by a music heard
by an audience of one.
About this poem.
I wish love made sense. But it doesn’t. It makes love. And that will have to be enough.
Tom

I love this poem. I, too, often yearn that love made sense, but it seems that I’m going to have to muddle around like everyone else!