Desperate hands reach out into nothing.
Hope still drives me towards that which I desire,
though no home is there for me to find.
The long ribbon of the road I follow stretches out before me,
an endless rippling thing that shines with illusions
disappearing before my hand can reach it.
One touch, one telltale kiss, might be enough.
One look, one meeting of flesh, might sustain me.
Yet when I look to my future,
I only see one.
I alone stand upon this path I tread,
hair gray, skin wrinkled, body tired.
This shall be where I end.
The question will remain,
of how long I will last,
if love as I desire it remains
as elusive as the unicorn of legend.

© Johanna Fugitt 2017