That depressed waif of a man

Became fat because of you. Slow filling

Balloon of a belly laughing

The same name over and suddenly

Smiling his shine shine face at babies.

At dinner he'd order the lot

With a carpe diem, swelled chest

Feeding pang red blood to an arm round your

Waist so tight I thought

You might split like the bananas

And cream you are sharing again.

He was rotund with it,

Polishing over the glistening apple of

Your smile, then, I gather, gorging

Crunches of orgasm until he became

Grotesque and swollen. I could not

Move him from his love-logged heap

He was so drunk with it, singing badly to the

Conquered sky which now

rained only when it was warm and

when there was music playing nearby.

After I saw him tear up your

Letter and stuff it in his mouth,

That shine shine smile was

Gone, soured like wine to vinegar and

He retched, spewed, shed regret skins til

He was gaunt, and bloodshot he hunted in your trash for

Festering morsels to waste on, but

Instead found his own favourite mug

In the bin.

Wheezing rattled through wounds licked

To the bone.

He became shallow-breathed

and seedy, a weedy Haversham loping around

your local

After which he would come,

Stumbling, to my sofa,

where we would watch

bad horrors to laugh at death and

stop his skeletal frame wandering crazy again into the night.

Macabre silhouette against the dimpled moon.

Early morning,

I awoke to the cold of an opened door.

A trail of torn out hair led to your

Garden gate, where

He lay in a flowerbed, desperate, dead.

I rang your doorbell with his skinny carrion- and

When you asked me what I was

Doing, I said that in my arms, 

there were bones I wished to pick with you.