My spine is too fine
While I loved one spineless.
It aches every time I grow
not in years, but in weariness.
It calls, I must obey in exercise.
And, even though my hands are fine
I cannot massage my own Prime.
A cow’s posture,
Kill the pain
Of sleeping ill or reading too late
And I’m relieved.
But, what I would have given once
Had you some spine, of two kinds
Like I do.