You asked me how to quench my thirst,
As it’s so far from yours?
I don’t need flowers, fucking, or to pry words from your jaws.
I know that my desires may seem like a list of chores,
But that’s the thing -
the way I love:
It’s mundane, flat - it bores.

There’s joy in the monotony:
The humdrum, every day;
Like when I put my books down, then you put them away.
It’s when I rub your feet after you’ve been stood up all day.
It’s where I choose to be, for me.
For you? You choose to stay.

I’ll share your body with you,
I’ll play it - soft and low.
The way to grasp your gasps and sighs?
My privilege to know.
You have the knowledge of me;
My mind, my heart, and so -
If you’ll be bored with me, my dear,
That heart, for you, will glow.