Gorilla's forearms are no match to your skeletal hands
Thin like a pigeon's pinky toe,
Smooth as cacti in the Blue Desert,
Is it not like a mummy's caress on her pale cheek?
Is there no lubrication within arm's reach?
Blame it on poor blood circulation
Blame it on surreal glaciers
(That's a metaphor for winter
That's a metaphor gone bad)
Fuck off, with your impenetrable gaze
Black holes warping the inner serpent
A sight of a crusty ogle
A careless possession,
Your right eye is having an epileptic seizure
What an obscure invitation
Another Hallmark
Another Cliche
Fucking Great.
