My girlfriend's wallpaper
has been compared to
frescoes that cry blood.
The guilt and the puke
fill a litter box,
accompany saintly icons.
Best not walk barefoot,
take off your shoes only
before you get into bed.
She's a master hairdresser
and death needs a trim,
halo of a pedicure.
And then like some crocodile
in the snow, ask her
for her forgiveness.
