It Is Not Enough

It is not enough
To have a chest like Henry Rollins'
For me to rest my head against, every now and then
when for instance, I am exasperated by your selfish ways.

Those eyes, that perfect shade of pick-a-clich? blue
I am afraid to say, are simply not sufficient
to hold slow Sundays in memory
over and above yet another rushed lunch.

And three gifts in December
from the not so wise man
don't make up, for the expense spared
on the emotional front, since Spring sprang.

No, please - don't get up.
I can see my way out.