VAGABOND

i was a consort, in some modern day romance.  where money was nothing as long as we were getting by.  and the comfort of places on a body were enough to get me by, for days.  now i roam the city streets, skinny arms and legs, eyes moving from face to face.  trying to find a trace of something to believe in.  searching the crowds.  there is comfort in being alone.  there are great moments of absolute bliss.  there is fun to be had, that i am having.  but i am a lover.  i like hair in my hands, and whispers on my neck, and the sound so strange of two people breathing in the night.  i was a consort.  now i'm a vagabond, searching for refuge in the eyes or strangers.  love just seems so far away.  so far away.  so far away.