Passion Cooled

That vital spark is missing between us:
we didn’t mark its passing.
No death-rattle audible over
the last squeak of the mattress springs.
Just shrivelled like an entombed corpse
until not even the skeleton of desire
remained.

The mechanical means remain for me:
at least, so far as I can tell.
But the urgent, rabid, needing
want of you is just no longer there.
You’re not wizened like a crabbit crone
nor unattractive in any way except
to me.

At least that’s how it seems to be.
You seem unbothered by this lack
of frisson between ourselves,
maybe your loss of interest is
the cold anaphrodisiac that killed
the sensual, tingling thrill for both
of us.