Love is so allusive. Everyone is looking for something that will ultimately disappoint them. I have mild conversation at laundromats and book stores. I have taken up a life of leisure, try to find God in simple things, but it is all so complicated. Everyone is so broken. The disconnection is sad, the broken mirrors and long silences are overwhelming. It only gets worse. We are spiraling into the void. I am not alone. Everyone wants to connect, find meaning with tea leaves and the soft glance that gives hope. So afraid, so sick with the burdens of modern life. I find silence in a quest for the soft flesh pressed against flesh, the simple embrace, the tongue touched to lips. Everything is nothing, at least for those who make a home in the desert, who become sick with the gadgets and toys of our misery. I yearn for something…