I will be able to make do with parts of You
that do not need attention
for they are
useworthy and not frugally inclined
to do without when I ask.
I will not be able to make it here
when you ask, for it is about
timed expression of love and not the vanity
of fair-do’d slipper and tongue.
I will be yours, but not for always,
as there is much to do after you begin
your journey to the neverland of sombre
necklaced drama and vernaculared
wellbeing, in tomes and wench’s forty one and so
what to do about You when I die?