You bemoan my femininity
Disgruntled at my elusive charms
And my sinful seduction of you
You talk of yourself only in
Passive tense and make your feelings
A fault on my part; no failing of yours
But I deny having any part in it.
You hiss your disgust at me
And condemnation for all 'my kind',
Even as you twirl my hair in needy
Fingers, with gentle rhythms
And after we kiss you turn
And cough and spit shame-faced
And wipe your mouth with clean hanky
Avoid my eyes and walk shakily away.