My love, as the still light shines on your lice Ah, I smell the onions matted on your breath. What else? Your nose hairs are threads to soon slice, And when I leave I thank god I didn’t retch. My beloved, a shore of love passes through me When I do catch whiff of your gastro winds, They move like the barnacles on your knees Oh, as I stroke the maggots off your skin! Your eyes are red as a blowfly’s Your ears are clouded with wax opaque spots Your lips hoofed with your special spoiled meat pie Beloved, you smell worse than Death’s trots. As I lie in bed and think, lord what else? My chest rises in warbling warmth and I melt. © 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
2/06/2020: Originally written for The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest.
2/14/2021: Reposted for Ingrid’s Sonnet Sunday.
Happy VD day!