I wonder how many times

that hand has brushed those teeth
and fed that mouth.

How many doors it has opened
and things it has punched.

How many times it has pleasured
that body, pleasured a Body,

Belonged to another
Body, I wonder

how many times more
that hand

shall brush those teeth.

our friendship would wither
my lips knew well
but the kiss was sweet
so they dare not tell
that with bricks from burnt
bridges a path we did pave
and cemented in youth
it lead to a grave
the inscription on which
read ‘killed by a kiss’
oh so pleased was I
that I did not miss

But sober now in the blinding day
so sad, I smell, the foul decay.