Sunday, 11 June 2023

She wants

to be diaphanous as her dress,
an insubstantial spirit free
from all the disagreeable stress
of functioning biology,

to banish farts and faeces, sweat
and menstrual liquidity
but what I want is warmth in bed,
her smoothness and solidity.

She hopes her pungent perfumes quell
all hint of animality
but I prefer the ranker smell
of female sexuality.

Despite our differences I learn
to treat her dreams with gravity
and she endeavours in her turn
to live with my depravity.

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