My conversation has dynamics.
Whereas yours has none.
I talk sporadic.
Whereas you talked winded, long.
Our sex is erotic, with your orgasm in its place.
Better than your words. Which are always, always the same.
I hate your tone of voice.
So piercing and unconstrained.
I’d like you around again.
But you were always on my case.
Excitable and neurotic, you would never refrain.
From forcing infatuation, always without grace.
Your passion served for both of us, mine wasn’t always true.
You cared too much about me.
Never I and you.