What's Love Got to do With It?

We lay there...
afterwards. She says
to turn the heating
up a notch...she’s cold,
I’m hot. The same
old story. Adds,

“By the way –
saved us fifty quid
today. ‘Buy one,
get one half price’;
the dresses are a dream!
Just what I need to boost
my summer wardrobe”.

There’s no arguing
with that kind of logic,
nor when she says,
“Thanks...ever so much.”
Kisses me – just where
I like it. Purrs, “You
spoil me. You shouldn’t,
you know,” and she’s right.

Yet for goodness sake –
only look at her! Her face
may not have launched
a thousand ships,
but it could – given
half a chance.

She slips out of bed
as silently as she got in...
like frost – feathering
the corrugated lid
of an old-fashioned
dustbin...

calls to me, says
she’s running a bath –
asks am I coming too,
and I ask myself
what choice
do I have?