Put aside all the springtimes of Paris and Rome <br />There are none of your secrets you need to confess <br />Lock your dangerous dreams in the closets at home <br />All I'm wanting about you is your tenderness. <br /> <br />I don't measure the weight of commitments in gold <br />My fingers are not wearing your promises <br />No flesh of my heart can be purchased or sold <br />All I'm offering to you grows with tenderness. <br /> <br />I have no master plan for all you might expect <br />There is no art of love designed under duress <br />Show me maps of your islands I need to protect <br />With my arms of defence, weapons of tenderness. <br /> <br />Now if I must disrobe every truth of the word <br />And if you demonstrate just what works for you best <br />I'll insist upon nothing, whatever you've heard <br />Only bargaining with you for your tenderness. <br /> <br />So return those Millennium dreams to the store <br />And hold over your masks, we can play fancy-dress <br />Draw your hand down the lights, throw the rug on the floor <br />We'll explore all the borders of our tenderness. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Saint Valentine's Day,2008<br /><br />Frank Bana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/our-tenderness/
