I’m sorry.
That’s the thing we say
Like automatons mis-remembering the meaning

It used to be I Love You.
Even when we’d say other words
Simple words
They’d mean I Love You, same as if we said it
Said it every time our lips were apart from each other
Every time they parted

To have a time –
A long time –
When all words meant something so deeply
In contrast with these empty utterings
Is whispered agony