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.