sometimes i wonder what
it feels like to look at a woman
and feel a sense of belonging.
to look at that woman with
her skin golden olive in the sunlight and
her hair dancing around daintily across
her bright and welcoming face like
the branches of orange trees in the
windy heat of a strange winter noon.
alas, she is exactly like the
windy heat of a strange winter noon.
a contradiction of everything true.
she then ceases to exist.
but maybe it is i who dies instead
and lives another life ingloriously in the
false premise of love with
another woman.
maybe i am cursed to
never truly feel the warmth of
an eternal embrace.
however,
im a maverick at love
and perhaps all my affairs and
flings and temporary solutions
to my desolation were just
a figment of what love ought to be?
ive never felt true love
even though there are people who care for me.
this void in my heart is wider than the universe
and nothing but my God can stitch it up.
His mercy supersedes everything.
truly this world is a wretched place
and maybe i am a wretched
person unfit for love.
till i drop dead,
ill be searching
till then my love
