You talk of servicing,
as if some mechanism
must be fixed
or straightened out.
I try to talk of love,
yet your eyes seek
other toys, other men,
some politely bowing,
as they pass our table.
Asking for service seems
so cold,
like requesting a waitress.
Will she find
the time?
Will she have other
customers to serve?
Servicing me requires
a tip
for noble gestures.
Is that what's needed?
Will your hands
grasp me tonight,
squeezing for cash
until I sigh?
Am right there, Larry. To live life devoid of emotion affects those around you more than you yourself, if that's your actual temperament. It's a lonely and diminishing place to be - on the receiving end of maintaining that status quo, that is. Guess some are just natural "givers" and for others, everything has it's price. You have such a gift for hitting the nail on the head with such economy of thought and words. TY Kate xx
If you tend to believe romantic, passionate, masculine poetry is a thing of past eras, read "She Intrigues Me," and be swept away in the beautiful craft of a contemporary poet of love.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Love Tinka
Sandie May Angel :o)