Brainbows

your love operates on my brain

like a hand grenade.  you bite the top off

and stick it in, then my eyes explode

out of my skull onto the opposite wall

with blood and multi-colored magnet letters

spelling things like “faith,” “love,” and “beauty”

you rearrange them into other words that make me laugh

like, “you evil fatty” and “voila, beef hat!”

we chuckle and you kiss the empty sockets

like they’re gonna taste like somethin’ other than blood

I can’t see you no more, but I feel ya, it’s true

and you ain’t goin’ nowhere, never you said,

so let me tuck my eyeless head

into the nook of your chin, neck and chest

until we rot with age and die, amen.

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One Response to “Brainbows”

  1. dusty Says:

    This type of humor is an acquired taste

    Some people were born with it and those who get to spend enough time

    with them to acquire that taste, are lucky to have that sense of taste

    acquired.

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