Is That Her 'FEMORAL ARTERY'

I met my lover late one night,

Stethoscope on my chest, BP cuff on my right,

And as he held my hand, on his resident’s command,

He summoned up all his might -

"I'm a doctor-in-training", he said,

Resting his body against my bed

"And is it too soon to make you swoon?

Because I know we've just met -

But you make my heart thump so hard

That cardiac arrest is on the cards,

Fast my blood flows for my soul knows

That true love has caught me off-guard.”

What was there to say but yes?

To a lack of experience he had confessed,

Yet I was fine with the nerdy pick up lines

Because for me adoration he had professed -

But he’s rare with actual compliments

Instead choosing to thank my ‘rents

For their chromosomes, their centrosomes

…I think good will was meant?

And even when he finds the right words

It sounds completely absurd

To hear “My dear, your telomeres

They have never faltered!”

All my girlfriends think I’m single

Because I never bring him out to mingle -

He works long hours, rarely showers,

And in small talk, the only lingual

Skills he has pertain to nerves of the tongue,

And if there’s pathology he has the lungs

To speak and speak for a more than a week,

As if other meddies he were among!

Surgery sets his heart on fire

More than my wanton desire,

Causing a fuss with his bloodlust

Whenever I want my body admired,

So when he’s making love to me,

I know he’s thinking of anatomy

Not what goes where, or how he fares,

But is that her femoral artery?

“Found it!” he cries instead of my name,

As if our activity is not a game

Of take-a-peek but hide-and-seek

Where physiology is the aim!

Still I know he’ll never cheat

Because he never has the time to meet

Another girl to take for a whirl,

And besides, I know I have them beat

With my ample mitochondria, cranial hypertrophy,

A million neurotransmitters and long phalanges -

Subcutaneous tissue, it’s never an issue;

So I’ll let him study our mutual biochemistry

Because he gives me atrial fibrillation,

Ventricular contractions and palpitations,

Every single date my muscles fasciculate,

Forever he’ll be my doctor, and I, his patient
.

[An old poem I had lying around. It never fails to amuse me.]