Do you feel nothing for me? Can this be true?
Is this why you run from me when I come into view?
I’m a philosopher. I philosophize about you.
I don’t think we love a person—we only love what they do.
This is why love is a paradox—we think love unites
Two persons—but love kills the person, even as love delights
In doing so—the dog who loves is the dog who bites.
The fact of what the other person allows you to do—
Sex—is all one can ever love. Yes. I’m sorry, but I never loved you.
I only loved that you gave me sex. And this is always true
For everyone. Love is nothing but this.
We never love the lover. We only love the kiss.
This is why you adored me, and suddenly saw me as a lout.
You don’t hate me—you hate love. You found out
The terrible secret: great love contains great doubt—
And when all doubt finally disappears
The truth makes us cry the bitterest tears—
Love gives nothing. Love is nothing. All we can do is fake it.
I have nothing for you. Here. Take it.