some days i wonder how your mind works.
do you believe me to be desperate for attention?
perhaps i am a lonely old man, searching among the bits
for bytes of your youthful apple.
but no, sweet one, no.
i have no more interest in you
than a star has in a passing comet.
you breeze through, i burn off your icy crust
and you continue on your way
in a short while, i shall forget you passed by.
some nights, i wonder if you know i am faithful to another.
she possesses me and i do not stray, do not wonder
and so, i shall watch you depart, my gentle boot
to your comet’s tail.
it was never about you, my sweet
it was only about my promise to God, about you.
now, my work is done.
and so, my dear, are you.
Being a man is difficult. Too often, I am friendly to a woman, or reach out to help, and she decides I am interested in her sexually. The female ego used to amuse me. Now, at 55, I find it tiresome. If we have met online, let me be CLEAR. I have NO interest in you romantically. NONE. NEVER. NO. I live in the real world, and never confuse the interwebs with it. Begone, foul demon!
I hope that clears things up.