To Me, He Came

He liked to cum.

Now, they all do,

oh, I know that,

but he did,  so

especially.

Like a cat, he

came to the door

with teeth clenching

delicacies

in gold boxes

of caramel

and chocolate

Belgian truffles,

or some rotten

piece of trash from

the back dumpster,

I didn’t mind.

I would gobble

it all up, so

satisfied that

to me, he came.