The Metrist Adrift

She Says

"Don't go home, please."
More demand than request
but either way I feel
I can't grant it.
I'm far too tired of
our dance.
How many times do we
have to fuck our way
into friendship,
only to fight our way back out
when we're done?
The eternal question
nagging my mind more than
the meaning of life:
What is the meaning of love?
or lust
or whatever twisted game
we play too well
or horribly.
I don't know anymore.
I only know I can't be here.
Not now.
Wishing I'd said all that
I mutter
"Sorry."
and disappear out the door.
It'll happen again.
It always happens again.