I’d love to give you truthful sentiment.
You’d take it as a ******* line again.
I’d love to lie to you to get my way,
and then reveal (magician-like) intent.
You never thought I’d have the ***** to say
not one thing of “I love you” (or the same),
but I avoid this loving lying when
you don’t believe me – think my words are lame.

You will not share in my false love, but I
can trick the brain, the heart, the lover’s eye;

though I refuse to play this trick on you,
though faking it is something we both do.

Together Lies and Love live in a home,
I doubt that Love’d survive it on his own.