There are no pure motives.
Dispense with that infantile conceit.
Pure things are reserved for saints and angels,
and even they want
what they want.

Everything, everything
everything we do,
we do to be loved.

******, cajole, bribe and flaunt
But do not ask for what you want
  
Twisted contortions
in dark places,
avoiding proof
that we are
in fact
un
love
able.

Lie, imply, torture and taunt.
But do not ask for what you want!

To be
unlovable
is not,
to be.

Wrinkled, bent, tired and gaunt
I will not ask for what I want

I will lie,
with carved smile
as you
tell me again
of our
imagined
intimacy.

© Copyright 2017 Robert C. Leung