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I see them as lovers,

They don’t even fuck each other.

I see the tenderness

It isn’t even romantic.

I see the innocence,

It isn’t even pure,

I see the tears,

They don’t even sympathize with dried eyes.

I see the wonder in their smile,

Because what do they have to wonder about?

I see them running around, so young and intimidating,

But I have to remember everything they had.

I see the deficits,

As me in my entirety,

The shortcomings are just proof of how far we go,

And their nipples are so hard,

But it isn’t even erotic, voices so soft,

They can’t even be touched,

And they stare, wanting me,

For something I want to forget,

Touching me,

They aren’t even looking for the erection,

I see them as lovers,

They don’t even fuck each other.