I want you

I want you.
Not for your beauty. Time has passed. Your image has faded. And I’m not sure if you were ever really beautiful. Or whether it was my love that made you so.
Not for your body. It has become far too common a currency since it belonged to me. I do not desire that which is not exclusive.
Not for your intelligence. Your knowledge and creativity were always too narrow for compelling conversation.
I want you.
But only because I cannot have you.