poem

 Portal

One day, when you were gone,

I found a cupboard 

That was actually 

A portal into your soul.

But not the good part,

Nah, all the dark, 

Unmentionable grays:

A vista gazing upon

Valleys of head spinning sin,

Meadows swaying with betrayals,

Too many bad haircuts to count.

All your naughty thoughts in 

Various rictal expressions

Of exquisite orgasmic delight.

It was actually kind of fun.

A couple hours very

Well may have elapsed.

Before I sealed the door and

Promised to never come back.

7/18/21