The ripples on your sides

seem to screen your eyes from your ancient ardors

And I swear you kinda look like the chortle type

But who knows, and who am I?

We can't see the day before and the lonely nights after.



So, slowly I scrutinize your faults

throughout this neverending lecture

THIS LECTURE

THIS CLASS

YOU

Who Force me cemented and punished

into this desk

Moon after Moon

Sunrise after Sunrise



And yet I remain sane

For it's not your humor which tickles the others to laugh



And my eyes

fall to your feet

which seem to be spilling out from your favorite pumps

trying to escape their daily torture



While you keenly accentuate your s's

setting my insides squirming,

slowly screaming,

losing all sanity!



At last your cult retreats and your sermon ends

And you become "mom" and a wife again

Your victims at home ponder their next spell

And tomorrow sparks will begin to flare



And the poison is ...



Well, it's perfect



And I will continue to wonder what it looks like

with the sun shining upon your face