A Reclamation (nocturne)

On hot nights I may fade, a little pale,
Though trim and neat (as usual?) in the shade;
My eyes may fix on others as they rail
Against vicissitudes: how they've been played;
I'll try to sympathise and not be bored;
My gentle, weary shoulders will not sag
Beneath the weight of complaints, once ignored;
But, I'm no saint; eventually I'll flag
And look to you to bring back gaiety,
As well as sweetness, from potential sorrows;
Then I will dance to bed, so we can see
If revels truly hold back our tomorrows;
My youthful freshness under you again;
As we fuck through to a dawn we'll reclaim.