I've been away
All day
With little left to say

Sitting on tan couches
(the boringest of colors)
Letting bitterness wash over
Like a fine wine
Or the drunkenness
That one feels after too much

I realized,
I can't do intimate.
I can do faux passion
I can do infatuation
But
Can
I
Love?

Great question, let me answer with another?
**** me?