Heartthrob II

You come to me:

Older, uglier, dishevelled and droll.

You say you still have the moves

to make me swoon, baby,

that you still have the cheeky grin

to make heads spin, baby.

I look at your face:

bloated, tired, blue.

You need this now

more than I ever needed you.

I think back

to that sparse room

with pictures torn down too soon

and I think of

books and calenders in sacks

and all those things your words had lacked.

I smile at you,

you give me that soft, sexy grin:

A best of’s on the cards, baby,

where shall we begin?

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