Disturbed is how I’d put it,
The soft purr of your voice,
The squishy mounds on your face,
Its cushiony bounce and clumsy distortions.
I’d love to watch you shave it off one moon,
Just like that hooker on 9 o’clock news –
– Do you remember that, Jake?
Later I swallowed his butter-crust eyeball,
Sent them down my gullet in a stream of a blood lusted dream.
– My shadow’s caked in fairy dust –
I liked it.