Irrigation

You run hot and cold A showerhead's dousing Over my aching thoughts Your words, sometimes sudsy Full of foamy cream to caress My skin with silken sweetness Only then, to wash down the drain When you've cleansed your own desires From the grime and crust Of a long day spent longing Missing my mouth, my touch And turning elsewhere, lips to be wetted You run hot and cold A garden hose left on Haphazardly drenching A newly turned garden Leaving behind puddles I will undoubtedly have to jump You, making mudpie promises That dry up and harden In the summer sun You run hot and cold A leaky faucet Someone neglected to fix Leaving the endless monotonous dripping As to echo the waste of watered down love