I’ve just come to realize that you don’t yet know

How I’m satisfied, let alone where will go

All of your unconditional love if the hand I show

Isn’t the one you held tight; isn’t the John you’ve known

Try as I might, but what could have grown

Under your one condition I love you like you’re the on-

-Ly thing I prize; -ly thing I own?

“Leave now!” she cried, “Leave what?” I groaned.

I’m gonna run from you, mama. Be you first dethroned:

The sex wasn’t quite right; your voice only droned

Never sweet; never quite ripe; never once intoned

That I was in quite conditional love, undersexed, overthrown.