There is anger in your brown eyes,
your expectation of me is not met.
I try hard to meet your demands,
but the more I try the more I fail.
You want complete love,
distracted I love so many
like the fair lady at the post office.
My heart lay at her feet,
perhaps one day she picks it up
and I’ll be alive the way I used to be when young.
You and I, my dear, are the same age,
in your arms I feel as I commit incest.
I do like to rest my head on your ample shoulder,
run errands and help with the washing up
like a good little boy I am,
but when it comes to physical love
I have to close my eyes
and think of the post mistress.