I do not know bliss,
the romance of passion that plays in films--
reels skip by me as I play at celibacy,
never knowing what true connection and passion is,
because the body never brings me anything but trouble,
women dominate me with fists or words &
men try to jab their penis in me as if I were plastic &
one night stands leave me raw &
I've had 'lovers' that refuse to touch.
Skin must be like sandpaper because the touching is never right,
I am aging & have not awakened sexually.
My hair is graying & I still blush red
at the sight of an attractive woman,
& wonder if I will become a wrinkled old woman who never knows
what it is like for the bosy and mind and heart to be fulfilled, or
if on my death bed I will think ecstasy and true connection an illusion.