Of the heart, of the blood
Of beat of the heart pumping the blood
Of those who respond to the love.
The greater artists, the lowest student,
the biggest jokesters, the saddest pariah of our time.
I have loved them all.
All have fallen away.
Where might I find your love?
In alleyways, in universities,
In tenements, on subways.
In nightclubs, illuminated by neon lights
      As you dance around the matter
In motels scattered across the highway,
      Like stars in a constellation.
In the agony, in the ecstasy
In far off lands, where you capture prince’s hearts
      And destroy as many as you save.
In pit stops with hustlers, buying love for $5,
      Never realizing mine was for free.
I still ask where your love may be.

Fernando Snellings is a junior majoring in Advertising. An Operations Assistant at Matt Bernson Design, he is an avid writer and reader who draws inspiration from his twin sister, Maria, author Edith Wharton, and fashion houses such as Valentino and Chanel. He currently resides in Brooklyn Heights.