Slander

I’m a go between, a simple pander,
A scapegoat, the direction of your slander.
You’re amorphous, you lack shape or form,
You’re a thought, a tumour, nothing more.
You’re a memory that was better off forgotten,
A sharp addenda, I was slowly softened.
The accusation, which you in turn corroborate,
The ceremony that I agreed to cooperate.
You leave me now, a kiss pneumatic,
It stings the air, my feelings automatic.
Unpunctual for you, never satisfying,
Incoherent to you, your slander is gratifying.