Break-up Poem

"To you, love means dissecting a man like a frog." - Anonymous, Central Park, 2011.

I dissect your spindly legs
that once were made of gold.

Now they are a slimy green,
reminding me of mold.

Once I kissed your curly head,
and whispered you were mine.

Now I wish that you'd grow bald,
and saggy from behind.

Once I loved, beneath your bed
and in between your thighs.

Now my dear, I do not hate -
I merely despise.