Lover, not my Lover

Hello Lover,
but not my Lover.
For though we dance,
feet-light and head-heavy,
we aren't quite there yet.

Lover,
not my lover,
you confuse me.
Sometimes it's as though
you've set up your tidy little home
in my brain.

You decorate your walls with my thoughts.
You've always had a taste for abstract art.

And yet at times,
you are cold.
Eyes like No Man's Land, and it takes some extreme
manual labor
to squeeze those three little words
out of your tightly sealed mouth.

Lover,
not yet my Lover,
I don't know how to give you eviction notice.

All I know is that without your walls to decorate,
the paintings of my thoughts wouldn't be nearly as beautiful.