prudence is a rich ugly old maid courted by incapacity (blake proverb)

prudence my love
each time you invite me to tea
i wonder do i have the appetite
for what i
hope you are requiring of me

prudence my love
are you really trying to say
over the sickly cream cakes
i can’t eat
that you desire me to stay

prudence my love
what can i read in the signs
your eyes and hands throw out
as we talk
i’m lost in your guide-lines

prudence my love
i’ve forced myself to live up
to your manner so why do i feel
sometimes i
disgust you like a cracked cup

prudence my love
when my arm brushed your chest
in the hall were you shocked
out of fright
or crying aloud to be kissed

prudence my love
when the napkin dropped to the floor
and we both bent to retrieve it
our heads touched
why nearly-run through the door

prudence my love
why did you sit down on the bed
when we went up to see the new
carpet – were
you out-of-breath or excited

prudence my love
you’ve lived on your own so long
know nothing of men – you make
me nervous
to speak should what i feel be wrong

prudence my love
we’re both old and equally plain
it should loosen our tongues
when i leave
i dread you won’t ask me again

prudence my love
it’s easy to guess i’m not much
good at love’s intimate things
but i hate
it when you shrink from my touch

prudence my love
away from your side is so cold
at tonight’s farewells whisper (please)
i need you
and give me your hand to hold