I know I don’t love you
I look at you with eyes filled with passion, but not a soul
I make out with you, 
I fuck you, 
I touch you, 
but I don’t kiss you just to taste you
My drive for sex is not in my heart by my pants
I don’t touch you like I wish I could touch the stars at night. 
What we have is ordinary
What we have is simple
People don’t write poetry about us
But I’m still happy