Because I saw
how you looked
at her,

drawn by
the moist
of her mouth,

a tumour
sprouted in my belly.

For weeks
it fed
and in the dark
I felt
the sharp prod
of its scaly elbows
its webbed toes
its monstrous head.

An old hag
muttered in my ear
how all men regress to animal
when they get the smell of it.

And although my kitchen
hummed with the sounds
of microwave and blender
I only heard
the insidious whisperings
of the sharp knives
cloistered in the drawer.