sonnet 4.11.13.

You soften me up pose the sweetest praise
My gait and gestures get your grandiose tick
And then you cut me down to country hick
I cringe your judgement its engulfing gaze
How can my love induce your louche malaise?
How can my candour make you stomach sick?
How can a passion cut out if two people click?
How can our union be a murky maze?
I swish a standing wave inside the tub
Wonder why the worry water wrinkles
Soaped skin I recall your eyes in twinkles
My bubble burst again I start to blub
One day were folk in love a happy hit
Next day Im done for since you quickly quit
Chorus hit blow strike