You Say: the Spike
Kurtistani; aab, cddceec, ffb
You say, my hankering is nothing like
a truly love: my love is just a spike
of noradrenaline and dopamine.
My dear, this is true. Unlike your soul,
your body meets my vision of a beauty:
the shoulders made of ivory, a cutie
unopened rosebud and her sis, a mole
on forest's edge, the forest down yonder
in which my ghost of kisses loves to wander
around, every upland, every hole.
Apparently, you'll find this poem bawdy.
It can't be helped: I love your lovely body,
your ugly soul is living wherein.
Truth Poetry Contest
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