Bawdy talk is not in her

dictionary, but she must ask.

She sighs, in front of the TV,

wearing her warm winter jammies,

"I wish I were a better wife."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"You know,"

she says coyly,

"more black negligees, more long cruises,

more time in the jacuzzi."

"You know what I'd really like?" he asks.

She holds her breath.

A harem? A 21 year old? A new motorcycle? 

What does he really want?

"I'd like you to quit your job,

ditch your friends,

forget your hobbies and spend all your time with me."

She peers into his playful eyes

and sees a wicked Boticelli cherub there.  

The flame leaps, the room warms,

and the doubts evaporate

as all the wants of both hearts

find satisfaction.