Blowing Hot And Cold Poem by Mark Heathcote

Darling, you want to fight over a borrowed bicycle pump,
Blowing hot and cold
Tell me just where I can go.
Darling, you want another 3-minute circus bout
when I'm about to burst, looking into your eyes.
And then tell me in the end not to go.

You want to always do battle about
What is wrong and right?
But darling, I want to lose and leave the fight
Because I bruise too easily
And my pride can't take any more knocks, baby.

Baby, you square up to me all the time
And I shrug like shuck foil
Whatever derivations of friendship we decide on,
We'll be arguing again,
When all I want is for you to be my bride tomorrow.

We'll be blowing hot and cold.
When I'd prefer to be sprawled
On the canvas floor, taking my first 10-count forever,
When I'd prefer to be sprawled
On the floor taking my first 10-count forever more, with you.