Let’s fall in love –

in our mid-thirties

it’s not only

where the hurt is.

 

I won’t get smashed up

should you go

away for weekends –

we both know

 

no two people

can be completely

all-sufficient.

But twice weekly

 

we’ll dine together,

split the bill,

admire each other’s

wit.  We will

 

be splendid lovers,

slow, well-trained,

tactful, gracefully

unrestrained.

 

You’ll keep your flat

and I’ll keep mine –

our bank accounts

shall not entwine.

 

We’ll make the whole thing

hard and bright.

We’ll call it love –

we may be right.



First published in Orbis.