I’m jealous of your duvet – it cuddles you in bed I’m jealous of your pillow – it holds your sleeping head I’m jealous of the mirror that sees you, freshly woken I’m jealous of each word inside your mouth before it’s spoken
I’m jealous of your shower gel and jealous of your flannel I’m jealous of the toothbrush that cleans your mouth’s enamel I’m jealous of your trousers and I’m jealous of your socks I’m jealous of the keys that slip, so nicely, in your locks
I’m jealous of your sandwich – cradled, and bitten I’m jealous of your bag of crisps that must be wondrous smitten I’m jealous of your hand that sits, blithely, on your thigh I'm jealous of the sunglasses that look you in the eye
I’m jealous of your cigarettes, I’m jealous of your beer I’m jealous of the mobile phone that whispers in your ear I’m jealous of your scarf and gloves, I’m jealous of your coat I’m jealous of the buttons that get pressed on your remote
I’m jealous of the magazine through which your finger flicks I’m jealous of the envelope your wonderful tongue licks I’m jealous of the lucky books that sit upon your shelf And if you so much as looked at me, I’d be jealous of myself