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.