Swear words

When he uses swear words

Wheedling on the tip of his tongue

Like automatic bloopers

“Bitch” becomes a hyperbolic sigh Of his most innate threads.

He enunciates the F word

He jams it with a couple of more

Obnoxiously sweet words

But the moment he vehicles them

On his tepid lip curves

Letting every word to comfortably

Numb all of his other words

You will be entrenched in his saliva’s warmth.

You will cuddle.

He will fuck.

Everything in his language,

All over his body

Seems to spiral like a python

Which advertises his Romantic crimes

He would commit when

You are naked in his infinite

Universe, dripping and viscous

Wild, schizophrenic.

I know

It centres a lover’s existence.

Drink from him

The poison of scented nights

When he strands flowers on your

Chest, like a child matting

An old drawing with an excess

Of colors.

Smell him

When he begins

To undo your horrors

With his slick tongue

Nebulously gauging

The fathoms of your survival.

And he would curse you again

Even while his thick hair

Foliages your pubis

Like lush weed

Even when

His eyes are pursed

Like they never opened

Before a frustrated morning.

You can quietly

Thumb your fingers on

His placid throat

And try to investigate

How does he say

The word “fuck”.