The Museum of Broken Relationships

The suggested donation to enter is expensive.

Each of us has our own gallery.

Mine is dark. Poorly lit. That’s intentional.

Letters, drawings, paintings, postcards, photographs – many poems.

It’s okay to touch. No one cares.

 

 


NOTE:  I wrote this poem and used that title without knowing that such a museum actually exists. Read about all that synchronicity…

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