I was thinking about love the other day
not sure why
except that I fancy myself a poet
and poets are supposed to think about love
and I wondered why
for someone so enthralled with the idea of love
once upon a time
I could live so happily now
without a hint of romance in my life
I finally decided it was because I have loved well
and often
I have had mine, and several other's to boot
I've forgotten more about sex and love than I ever expected to learn
and haven't a regret in my heart
I don't live in memories, that would imply loneliness
and my life is too full to be lonely
maybe it is just that each experience I have had
has left me fuller and happier
and I would be a glutton
to wish for anything more...
I am replete