she feeds us galore
the fall of our teeth
with a crumble of our tongues
in one mocking laughter.
her lips are this fire
burning men as an inferno,
of a razed vagina and breasts;
burnt promises, charred heart
smoking thick hatred and venom
that our teeth and tongues
couldn't help but crash and crash.
how do you love a matchstick
as maggots much love rots?
how do you strike a matchstick
with skimpy eyes of lust?
men are dangerous sweetness
of a tongue that cares so much
and a heart that hides so more;
but a wound is a stupidity
of a flesh that sleeps with hurt
and cries a putrefaction
as a sin against who's not
aunty, please burn on;
let us laugh loud your scorn