Once again,
left where you don’t belong
Scrunched up into a wrinkly wannabe
cloud filled with snot and skin flakes
or smears of mayo and spit,
glaring forlornly at me glaring pissed offedly
at you. When left to marinate in phlegm
and fluids on bedside tables and kitchen
countertops you start to multiply
like earthworms that procreate by having sex
with themselves.
Hell, you already have the lube so why not use it?