the success rate in human mating
seems to straddle such a thin line
whose chances become lessened
if the parties involved
have a true desire for one another

fear of failure
brings on love gone lost
and your perfect mate
becomes vanquished forever

the games rules change
from her to her
and
him to him
yet your strategy unchanged,
the real me,
will win my mate

the maze traveled through
with dead end routes
and roads leading nowhere
leave me running in circles
with the sands of time
washing up on shore
awaiting
another search

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