searching for love

i call for her

but she only seeks

love dripping

  from the lips

of a styrofoam cup.

i tap a buttons

flowing

to you

to ask for a

that very cup.

“no”

you say to me

“look for something else”

so I stop looking

and my body morphs

to styrofoam

manufactured.

but true to my name.

always available

and pathologically the same.

my fingers push

the coins in

please a styrofoam cup.

“not full of love”

this time

just full of truth.

“well that is love hun”

and she hands me

sharable truth.

Sharable truth

  In a styrofoam cup.

-Naima Naz