My wrath married your handsome waywardness
Created a green, viscous child

--Who
Purloined your verdure
And
Whetted my vicissitude

Your face has converted into
A devout pleated cotton skirt
Exciting new fold emerges
Deligently every other day

That body of mine now hops
Like a bald eagle's succulent deer
Always breathless,
My voice has become a terra firma

We should have been more wary,
Your wizened forehead tells me
We should have been more wary,
My uproarious body tells you

As we sigh and repent,
There comes another line on your face
And here comes another crack in my voice.