I know we are all different,
My problem is that I idealise,
That's the Romantic in me,
Thinking that there is perhaps ,
That metaphysical level,
Beyond just shagging.
I don't always connect,
And although it's complete,
For me,
I sense the lack of awe,
In others.
Perhaps it's there for awhile,
And with some it's never there,
It's a strange bedfellow,
That you can be rapt,
Totally involved,
And then whimsically,
No longer flavour of the month.
You can be so close,
And so separate.
I wish someone could explain it to me.