I never found a soulmate, but I didn’t search for long.
I had no faith his feet were on the earth.
I harbored fancies in my head, but facts were always strong,
and likelihood was where I lived since birth.
The mating game seemed like a vote to me:
the field imperfect and the task to choose
the lesser (least?) of flawed humanity
that would reciprocate and not abuse
imagination, body parts, or time permitted us.
Romantic wait I never could sustain.
Perhaps I should have bided, dared, and staged flamboyant fuss,
but no one moved my heart or stirred my brain.