Denial

I do not crave your touch, the subtle brush of your hand against mine.

I do not dream the taste of your lips nor do I fantasize the smoothness of your skin beneath my fingertips.

It is not an ache that fills the hole in my heart, carved in the likeness of your image.

It is not longing that has settled into my bones and keeps me awake at night.

I do not tremble at the sound of your voice.

For I do not love you. I never have and I never will.