The Inmate!

There isn’t much

left to munch now.

She cleaned up the

last morsels

of his boyhood,

onto a fresh tissue,

laced it with her breath,

sprayed it with gasoline,

and burnt it in hell.

He has a job now,

they call him a man,

he drives a car;
I call him an inmate.

A fine line

The fine, naughty
smile on her open lips,
the jest in her
naughty eyes which
always light up at sunset...
A proud glimmer
in 'em all tonight,
for she has two guests...

... Lovers, poles apart,
but lovers... lovers...

The man, a loner from the
north, from the highlands
where warriors hide behind
the masks of bards;
his muse tonight has gems
from the morning star,
strewn on her evening gown;
they held hands at the beach.

... At the front courtyard
of their host, 
basking in her pure
white affection,
they danced...
While their emcee,
she spread out a dinner
on a silver platter.

- The Pole Star, Venus and the Crescent Moon were aligned this evening. A union of lovers!