dank and dark. You are stellar,
the light the spark. He's
a dirt basement, no floors
or walls. Just an encasement,

a hole to crawl. He's a vault,
a crypt. A musty cave equipped
with rickety stairs. And hairy spiders
that tarry. A spot for rats that carry

disease. A tight squeeze. Cobwebs
fill the corners, a home for waifs
and foreigners. You're the villa,
the courtyard and grape vines. He's

the pit, the shaft, the mine. You see,
he’s the bottom, below the earth. Slimy
mold of girth. You're the roof, the top.
From you to him is a long drop.