Love, But Not Like That

I’ve given up on love.

I’ve given up on trust.

Unbearing my body and soul—

how silly,

how embarrassing.

Never enough,

but somehow too much.

Asexuality

may be the life for me.

No more reaching,

no more waiting,

no more molding myself

to be held just right.

I’ll find warmth

in the sun on my skin,

in silk sheets,

in my own steady hands.

Love will exist—

just not like that.