I trust that you mean that you love me.
I trust that you mean that you care.
It’s just that, your love doesn’t mean a great deal
For you are not burdened by longing or despair.
Your love, to me, is a like.
It’s not binding nor Shakespearean,
It’s soft, you find me a delight.
But you have never compared me to a summer’s day.
Nor have I heard a Sonnet grace your lips.
To you, Love is a casual declaration.
We are a ‘situation’
In which you find it appropriate, nay proper
To say I love you.

But you don’t mean to say it, I love you.
At best, your love is a like.