Thursday, 16 January 2025

She wants

to be diaphonous 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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