I thought it was love in just a matter of weeks.
A summer of lust that had passed with the breeze,
was gathering speed and wouldn’t be stopped.
Amassing some steam as if nothing was wrong.
With our wonderful bond we sealed with a kiss
to the autumn beyond through the clearing of mist.
Tides appearing to shift with the settling of rain
eyes reeling adrift from that predatory gaze.
The celibacy came and went, as we rolled onto the bed,
temperatures remained with the clothes’ tossed overhead.
It was so hot, the suspense! I could’ve burst into flames,
I was thrown off by the scent but undeterred to delay.
Her assertive ways had upped shenanigans
with a thirst for a race she could run a marathon.
Abrupt yet, happy when having our wrestling feuds
as more unravelling showed her selective moods.
Those protective duties shone in the mist of the rage
but her unprecedented beauty was beginning to fade.
I made it my mission to gauge what she liked in a man.
As suspicions were raised after her pints with the lads.
So one night in her flat I chose to start looking about.
My mind was scattered and smothered with doubt
I hunted around and noticed a buzzing.
Wandering downstairs to the closet I rummaged
Roaming the cupboard to find a securely measured box
Then opened the front and I saw a fleshy COCK!??!
To my unsuspecting horror and nightmares confirmed,
the underbelly slotted in and finely preserved.
Terrifying silence emerged and it was hell, resurrected
I was lifeless, submerged in a shell left dejected,
I found myself second guessing what was in that portable icebox.
Which now begs the question, should I run? or should I stop?
WYD?