Did I mention that I don't love you
and mostly use you for your body
and your warmth at night,
or as a mirror in the morning
that reflects me younger,
or as a distraction from the one I love
or as a bandage for a wound you are too kind to ever inflict,
and as a character
in my own conceited melodrama
and as practice
to refine my skill of deception
(called seduction)
and as an audition
for when it's love
and as a re-creation of when it was love
and as recreation
and commemoration
and potential material
for just another line
in just another lousy song?

If I am sorry,
why then do I go on?
And if I have been honest,
why then are you still here
placing gentle kisses
where other lips will surely come?

Anyway, isn't poetry shit?