They read me,

They feed me,

But they do not need me...

They witness my ramblings

& want to learn more.

Maybe they know him...

Maybe they show him...

I don't see faces...

It's like I'm their whore.

Maybe they want him...

Maybe they taunt him...

Maybe they dated;

a memory now...

But such distant dangers

in the eyes of such strangers

are the lies that corrupt our unspoken vow.

And so I will share,

And hope he will care,

And maybe he will and I'll never know...

Maybe this never...

Memory of pleasure...

Is something to treasure...

Why can't I let go?