I miss being in love,

Not because I long for

Her arms, but so I

May feel joy once more.

Although i never slept

In her bed, or kissed

Her angelic lips, or

Danced with her in

Our kitchen after

Laying our children

Down to sleep, I

Miss the song's I'd

Write about her warmth.

I long to daydream

About a girl to hold,

Or a boy to kiss,

Or a lover I can

Actually be with

In reality and not

Just in my imagination.

Maybe I'll find

Them one day,

Sitting in a coffee

Shop with a book

In hand, their

Glasses falling down

Their nose, and

I'll gain the

Courage to stroll

Up to them and ask

How they are enjoying

Their novel.

Maybe I'll bump

Into them on the

Streets of a city after

A play. I'll fluster,

Blush, and they'll

Laugh at my silliness.

I hope they have

Her warmth. I hope

They smile like the sun.

If nothing else,

Don't have her

Pools of deep brown.

I don't think I

Could bear to see

Her every time I

Look into

My future lover's eyes.