Come To Bed She Said, And Then We’ll See

Why, she said, would I want to fuck you?
I could not reply, the want or why meant
not a lot to me – but that she asked had
placed me out of reach. I’d rather what she’d
said to teach me better manners, a clean
intent to make the state more plain and
then again – perhaps to put me where I’d
learn to take a chance and ask a proper
grant of favour. The more I mulled my fate
the worse the flavour seemed; I took a neutral
stance, her emphasis was ‘Why’, not ‘You’,
or had I missed a beat? Perhaps the stress
was ‘I’ and there it seemed to rest until a
gem of thought suggests she really meant
this thing rhetorically. She shook her head,
come to bed she said, and then we’ll see...
© 14 April 2007, I.D. Carswell