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All I want is not you,
rather it was the time I spent with you.
I don’t crave those lusty nights anymore,
in which I was lost in you.
I don’t want to kiss your plastic lips anymore,
as I realized I’m still alive without you.
It’s my third beer,
and I’m surprised it tastes better than you, love.
Darling,
you spoiled my anatomy in the most ravishing way,
as wild as I expected.
So, the Friday night has come,
not which I used to spend with you,
but one I now spend all drunk,
profoundly broken in your half-truth.
It’s been two weeks,
I did’t taste the wine,
as I crave tasting it off,
your lips,
you.

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