Simple

It's 4 AM and things seems pretty simple:
in this life I need a woman.
It isn't so much a case
of who I would chose,
but more about who would choose
to stay... to endure
with me.
Still, it seems to make sense,
male and female,
joining.
That's what this world is for.
If not, then everything stops.
It's not for me to judge this.
I did not make the rules.
Still, people debate,
attachment, non-attachment -
as if choosing one
will change anything:
the wave becomes a trough, the trough a wave;
it's still just salt water.

I thought this poem would turn out differently -
I thought it would be about me,
and my questions,
my aches and pains.
But look what has shown up instead:
the blue light of dawn,
a new day.

But the day will  have to wait.
For now, I return to bed and
the heat, the flesh and fur, the wondrous face
of the woman called Melina.