a woman stands before me, swollen eyes
glaring hungrily back at me, bulbous arms
wound tight around a sagging, doughy stomach,
like fat and famished snakes trying to squeeze
the oily life out of a succulent swine.
her lips twist like too pink worms
pulling apart from one another in
an ostentatious grimace, as though i had
suddenly become the subject of a
painfully funny gag.
my body recoils
at the thought of her stench,
sloughing from her blotched and
scarred skin like frayed and
cantankerous emotions long left
unattended by those that threw empty
bottles of whiskey and cigarette insults.
i double down and retch and purge
myself of the woman that stands inside me,
laughter shorn by bile and the
venomous sludge that her heart will
sometimes cough up.