Why would you; how could you
Wake me from my dream of you?
Why discard a hazed perfection
For a blurry early-morning hairdo
And a mumbled, grumbled altercation?
Do you expect some etiquette
Instead of resentful yawning
When you shake me and you wake me
On a bleary, dreary winter morning?
Or better yet, a calm respect
For your neglect of fawning,
Your dragging me, maternally,
Back to the gloom I was born in?
Could you, should you beg for praise
For your officiousness, perniciousness,
For your laconic, freezing kiss?
When what's said is said,
And done is done,
With papers read,
And day begun,
I'll love you:
Your efficient nature, trysts;
But even while
My dream will still be missed.