At a loss

I always want the ones

I cannot have

On the precipice

of my comfort zone

But I think I will fall backwards

rather than plunging forward

To be nestled safely

in my comforts

A creature of habit

Not true, not always

I do break out

of the mold

Every now and then

But I’m becoming old

Fearful and lazy

She must see it

They all must see it

How could I convince her otherwise

Why would I want to?

I don’t want to lie

What I want from her

is not noble

What she does to my heart

has been done before

Countless times by

countless beauties

I am tired of yearning

Soft lips and

warm embraces

are always memories

that are not truly mine

My words are bland

My actions are queer

I am a layabout

Shiftless loner

‘Won’t some sweet lady…?’

No she won’t

Not old, not young

Just right

For what?

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