Love

I’ve never had the pleasure of being in love.

Not because I won’t open myself up to the idea or even because I am picky.

The men simply don’t go for me.

It seems as if my type isn’t appealing to one’s eye.

I’ve been lucky to have years filled with travel.

To see places that explorers only write in their journals of.

And yet still,

I’ve never had the pleasure of being in love

Oh what I would give to be the center of someone’s attention

To have someone think of me just as much as I think of them

To be held in the arms of a lover after our bodies have exhausted themselves.

To simply be in love

Oh I can only imagine.