I have given you my meats
I have given you my fishes
Still you hiss at me
And
Avoid my touch
Are we not friends?
Are we not companions?
Ah.
Maybe not.
Maybe my offerings are not enough
Maybe it takes more than scraps
More than what is left.
How foolish of me
To expect love when it was all but for convenience
Perhaps I will never truly know you
And
You will probably never know me
There is no future for us
And
Maybe not even a past
But the meats and fishes will still be there
Not out of love though,
Just out of habit.
