Wild Blossoms

Busy, on this Chest she lay
Prongs pulling the fluff off my face
Eyes closed, savouring the intermitent twitches
Revelling in the joy of her surgical care
“Baby, will you always do me?”
“All the way, Dear” she cooed
I soared with the cadence of her lull
Soothed beyond care, I dreamt away.


Today, I wake to an irritating mane
The futility of promises reflecting
On this mirror, as I reach for Gillettes'
A dose of talc to smoothen the prunes
Alas, down I lay them again
For all those should have left with her
And I will blossom Wild once more
Now that I am all Alone.