No One Can Ever Love You Like I Do (I.P.)

OK – so you’ve finally made it home, and yes...
I am mad at you, and I might sulk for a while, but
you know, only too well, how to get round me.
But, steady on! Gently does it, please. You almost
made me spill my gin and tonic! Sit here beside me...
or on my lap. What the heck! But I might point out
those nails of yours are unkempt. Could do with a short
back and sides. You really do spend too long digging
in the garden. My hands are like ice, but you warm me,
and you smell nice; guess perfume connoisseurs might
describe it as ‘smoky, with a touch of pine – undertones
of apple-wood, plus a hint of chives and mint’.

Mmm...that feels good; you’ve got such a knack
with the old ‘leg massage’. Except...don’t go to town;
you’ll snag my brand new tights. What was it I just said
about those nails? Too late, sod it! Look what you did;
you’ve scratched my thigh! I’m bleeding...but only
a little, and after all, they do say love’s supposed
to hurt – if but a bit (and I only wish he’d love me
that way). Staring me out now, are you? Eyes,
diamond-bright, lock with mine; a laser-straight aim
at my heart, no less. Eyes that seem to say, ‘No one
can ever love you like I do.’ Ain’t that a fact, Cat!