How many? in Magma

How many times can you say you’re tired?
How many times can you say you tried to wake me up because you were in the mood and I didn’t wake up?
How many times do I have to lay there waiting for the blowjob you say you “owe me”?

Perhaps it is best I just forget it even exists, because it is more than just a carnal desire, more than the anticipation of my fingers running across your smooth flesh as it swells as your breasts.

It is more than just this.

Yet I have nothing.