There's The Rub

It’s clear the sweetest danger lurks about.

Assuming your complaint is as it seems,

the muscle tension you complain about

holds promise as a fodder for my dreams.

The rub is that I cannot solve the tease,

the oily touch of ambiguity,

that scents your mild complaint. So, if you please,

could I massage an answer from you? Tea

is promised by the kettle. Building steam,

that yearns for an escape into the air,

has nearly reached the point where it will scream…

immediate release! What’s that, you dare

to murmur once again? Or did you growl?

No matter, I concede; throw in the towel.