Your hunger for seducing living fetishes
Was only smaller than your ego.
Cigarettes and your ordinary oh-so-unique persona —
A deadly trip to blasé land
Your appetite for cake and meat; your pushing fifty’s lies —
Your wife will never ever know
Until the day guilt sings through my voice
Trapped in ill natured dreams of desire;
You were a bad lover
Months later, I rethink sins.
My only comfort resides in two facts:
You liked cats and poetry
This cringe worthy nightmare of truth is going to stay up for a little bit more.