Tap tap tap
how the warm water showered down
Hopes wasted on skins,
Stains on my last two husbands;
the fear cache of the bleached skin
and the renown frown
of the sun-tanned;
Refreshing their skins,
to vanquish the hidden cold.
But they wished each other death,
I could guess in anguish;
Wished testicles cut and over-bowled,
Name mutilated and dead,
History used for hypnosis.
In vain the tireless soap fumes tried
Washing the evil embalmed
in the mortuary pride
of their hearts becalmed.
As i wondered,
I got a revelation
that this is the ritual
of hypocritical black and white hands interlocked
At the crossroads of blunder
Where chickens return with infection,
Roosting with a poison conflictual;
Lobotomized by a red smile. Deceit-locked.
At the same dark room
where the testicles of the future,
are cut off by the evils that loom;
Hot bath making sutured
to greed-wrecked dead men;
They, have testicle fragments messed
And are still the ones to take the photographs;
Embalming the dead guest,
Writing mind-stealing epitaphs,
forming the black stone of the dead.
The cause of looking in the mirror,
and calling your brother a beast with claws;
A usurper-Is a global nightmare
of living on a fence,
you enraged against yourself;
of being brain-washed,
by a smile of insensibility
riding on your untamed appetite
And long-throat insatiability.
Leaving off-guard, stripped.
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