Being Romantic

Apologies to Elizabeth B-B.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways, I said,
Trying to be romantic.

(A waste of time on the beach at Blackpool,
Some have said. But I tried anyway)

Seventeen, she said,
(Utterly prosaic).

What?
Seventeen, she said,
And licked her ice cream cone.

I don't get it, I said, and shivered
(I didn't have any ice cream.
Too cold for me, but she wanted one).

Seventeen, she said,
It's the number of positions we've tried,
And gave it another lick.

I was being romantic, I said,
And watched her tongue, all pink.
I meant ways of loving, not
Ways of making love.

Oh, she said.
Sorry.

It's alright, I said.
Give us a bit of your ice cream.

She said nothing.
And smiled.

Eighteen, I said,
And took a bite.