Tuesday morning, February 14,2023 at 7: 05 a.m.
Toy with my emotions all you want; treat me
like an object; it only diminishes you all the more
in my eyes; and that's all that counts. You are just
the latest in a long list to attempt this; and how could
you after all the kindnesses expended... Is it just one
more "cheap thrill", is that it? Sit down for a moment,
reflect. Why put both of us through this? Didn't we
have something, if only for a moment? Didn't we?
In the end, this is perverse—affection, love devalued.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem