It never had to be

True to anything,

No imaginings in

This hard cold place

of Gradgrind notions.

No space

 for human emotions

with Mills and Boon

connotations

in your scared home

of fear and frigid heed.

But palpably I suspect you care.

I believe in a cautious kindling -

Because your arms are warm;

And sometimes unawares,

I watch you stare,

Reflected in the mirror

you admire

The naked skin behind

My black lace.