Not a Love Poem

[Cate]

.


He tries to pretend that he's not full of vile,
but like dark sludge, it seeps out of his orifices.
When he speaks,
little balls of it fly out of his mouth.
Sometimes a ball of it gets stuck on his lip.
It lengthens and retracts with every word spoken.
The balls multiply.
They try to sew up his mouth
and keep all the rot safe inside.
When he shakes your hand, you can feel the wet
of it sticking to him and now to you. He holds
your hand too long.
There's sanitizer stuck to the side of the wall.
As soon as he leaves sterilize your hands, don't
forget your wrists. One day the man will melt.
His face will turn red, and the vile will leak
out of every pore, crack and hole until all
that is left
is
teeth.



Happy Halloween