You were wet from the dew
And provocative.
I didn’t feel you until you were
Trembling along with me.

But how did I yearn for you!
Count the seconds when you weren’t there!
When you cherished other bodies,
Other un-shaven chins, other warmth.

Now you say the words I’d always dreamt of.
But are you not a spent concubine now?
How, I ask, its possible for Love’s richness
To fade, to cease; I know you are vexed!
But, how can I accept you?
When you just sold yourself again.