Nine dart finish

You are pressing me towards the ground,
playfully I think you think, and while
this wasn’t what I had expected
when you asked me outside at 22.53,
all the better to see in another instalment
in the serial drama ‘Our Future’,
I resolve to say it is the sort of thing
I’d hoped you’d do when I said
I wanted you to be truer, straighter.

You say: these lines are the wires
on the cosmic dartboard, and we are
somewhere near the triple 20 bed. I am
the fletching you need, your nine dart finish.
Come, live your tungsten dreams with me.