Bingo on Valentine’s Day?

 

Love and lovers are not in my mind nowadays,
not even today on Valentine’s Day, in spite my
black lace bra: I turn 72, a breast cut away, one
bra cup silicone filling. At present I lean on my
cane and not on a man (except then my son!)
and puts on a coat on my easily cold old body,
although I’m not yet that old to lose myself in
romanticized memories of a youth once. And
I’ve still an eye for the beauty of young male
bodies. But ”Look but not touch” that is all an
old woman gets, which worsen of men my age
are as attractive as a herd of bony hairy goats,
those in turn only look for young women. That
may be the reason why we old loners ends up
at a Bingo Hall on a Valentine’s Day? Well, not
me! I stay at home to write my poems, which
sadly gets stale and pale, all the passions gone.