Unrequited Echoes || Poems of a Love Not Reciprocated

You Look at Me the Way I Look at Him

Your lips crave mine,

Yet mine long for his.

My lips are pressed against yours,

While his are on hers.

He will never be mine

but I will always be his.

You are a substitute

he is a fantasy.

My hands will never search for yours,

the way they wish to hold his.

You are the cheap liquor to pass the time,

and he is the 1969 wine.

I am not yours,

And he is not mine.