The Gift

I am a girl.

and what I remember

about Love...

It has always been

more important than

air itself.

I've chased it

bathed and wandered

aimlessly in it.

Until I forget

more about Love

than I remember...

It will burn me

to the very core

Can I still believe?

I've been discovered,

lost, found,
but never savored.

My girlish years

crafting such perfect

Love, the happy ever after.

The brass ring

not so golden or

not the right fit.

And now a woman,

still all I'm ever

going to want

Is to be the gift.

the one, the Love

of someone else's Life.

If I can't believe it so,
this mystery is little
more than myth.