Mea culpa

You are so soft, but your softness does not touch me. You're so shy, but your shyness casts no fire in my heart. You are full of wounds and scars, but these do not call my name, and these I do not feel as if they were mine. Your loneliness does not trespass my soul, nor does it make me yearn to touch your hands, to embrace you, to give myself to you. And in you I do not see any ocean of unfathomable depth... No word of mine has ever been inspired by you. None of my poems. None of my verses. None of my drafts. It's not your fault. I never loved you...