Miss Wonder

I miss a caress;
fingertips and palm,
alighting upon
my bald head;
a soft, wet kiss
that lasts more
than three days;
eyes that peer through
to the soul
that is the only one
that matters;

I wonder,
to the God
who created love,
to the soulmate
I guess I
supposedly
haven’t found yet,
if there is a one
who possesses
this caress,
this kiss,
those eyes;

I miss,
wondering,
and go on
living...
go on...
living...
go on...
go.

© 2013 Joseph Powell