Jammed

Our bloated love,
Turgid with gas, belly-hill skywards.
Bag of chips rocking on the counter
Full on emptiness. Bags of

Pigs sunbathing. Disgusting. If you
Pushed us we would explode.
Pimple from our teens: those
Were bad habits. There is a child

Warbling at our loss: our
Love leaking ink where the paper is
Jammed. Black mascara
Tears. Gone wrong. Oozing, begging

You please leave me and move
On. Oozing, spittle dribbling, fingers
Prying at the corners of your mouth,
And you tried to speak

Pink gum flashing
Drool, transparent, tears. I brushed
Them off, back of hand and
All, gently smiling. You poor

Creature
Rotting in the sun.