Too easily

(Another first draft...)

I climb the scales
of lust and love
too greedily.

(It's boys with toy cars
and space monsters:
Easily impressed with fantasy.

No less sincere
for being vapid
but not the stuff of legacies.)

And yet - each time
I say I love you
is to raise a silhouette

against the sky:
a Taj Mahal or Eiffel Tower,
meant to last us after all.