you were squishy. And I could
roll you on the floor. But when
I broke you open I found out you
were hard-nosed with teeth that bit
me in the night.

At first, I thought
you were bright, that you illuminated
the sky. Until I found out you were
a forest fire that burned every woman
in his path.

At first, I thought
you were a warm bubble bath
that I could sink into after a
hard day. But the water turned cold
and flat and drained.