As I’m incapable of love, instead,
I offer that which seems to work as well:
a something you can love, a kiss and tell,
a something always warm to warm your bed.
And if that’s not enough, then love me more.
You know that I am faithful in receipt
of love. However constant, vast your need,
know its enormousness cannot exceed
my appetite. I cannot be replete.
I am the perfect lover on that score.
Enough of talk. It’s getting late and we
should head to bed. Do what you need to do.
Come gently, softly, don’t unsettle me.
Bring warmth and I’ll accept your warmth from you.