Listen here

I am not your wife
I am not your mother,
no--
bloated I
stumbled by,
fell into your eye,
goodbye.

I don't want your pining
I don't want your whining,
no--
I just want your eyes
philosophize
wax and wane upon my sighs.

Write a letter if you must:
know that my nature distrusts.
As my iron turns to rust
I speak because I must.