Passing

To see her blog, adorned with pastel tones Widens the gap that pervades my bones For now we eat her passing meal of plain white rice Leaving us all alone, without much needed fashion advice The red light district has lost an inductee For I would have love to be involved in her naked party Yet for now we must all be content With the debauched path she hath went. Sadness invades a binary world Where tweeters and bloggers hearts have curled Bringing back memories of Madonna’s ‘Like A Virgin’ Her fashion advice precise like a mastoplexic surgeon I remember the fervour when you were followed by Kath Kidston A similar experience when I had my first Jar of Branston Yet when you found out the intensity with which I was following you You wanted to change species and become a Gnu You learnt to accept my frequent outpourings of love When you finally spoke to me, I felt as free as a pure white dove But upon your departure I feel pathetic and hollowed The best I can hope for is the number of one of the hot bloggers you followed She was always my muse, my intimate inspiration No-one can cause such an outpouring of personal perspiration My heart now yearns to see her type a special tweet One that would make Mr Sexton act like a dog on heat Now the world mourns the passing of Lily Fulvio-Mason I can still see her face reflected in my wash basin With every heart beat, every full blooded pulse My sadness streaked blood makes my body convulse But now it’s time to go, my heart says goodbye The pain eats my nipples like the Syrphid Fly I can finally see your body laid in an eternal rest And now I can now finally uncover your breast.