Compliments by Proxy Never Work

I wish I could take back what I said,
Put something else there instead-
Yes, dear, a little to the left, now; a little to the right,
Now fit something else there, instead.

But that's not the way it goes, now isn't it?
It isn't.

Oh, it seemed so innocent.

Who could know?
Who could predict it would echo with such dissonance
In your primly lit voice?

Call it lecherous, call it the importance of not being earnest,
But I have to assert that it hurt
When I, in attempting to flirt, provoked you to spurn
With an offing snort and a decisive turn,
My indirect compliment; my professed obsession with skirts.