Let’s Make It, Love
And we’ll live in bliss
Let’s Make It, Love
I support the forestry industry, dear Asha, by printing out this poem and handing it to you as a sign of my love.
My heart is never on loan to anyone else, every particle of it is yours.
You tell me I’m missing a button and I try to locate it but to no avail.
I know my jokes often fall flat but I have no regret even though your laugh is a casualty.
Did you notice I got all cleaned up for you?
It’s a common convention, primping and pimping while I puff out my chest.
I’m sorry there’s no jelly for the biscuits but there is jam and the fever of me loving you.
When I’m in my coffin I only hope you will come and bring me some chocolate and maybe a taste of your tears.
I would love to live with you in a cottage somewhere until then, we could find jobs working on commission will little or no training.
What I crave is to see a sculpture or your leg, in the finest tradition of sexiness.
I’m certain that the mountain I have to surmount to get to you is worth any struggle.
Here’s an overview: certain parts of you are thick but I like it, makes you even more…