A spider has laid eggs in the side of my face.
The turgid mass has grown so large that surely, at any moment, it will burst and spew forth dozens of arachnid progeny. I am certain of this.
The lump is definitely not a massive zit that I have manhandled to the point where the resultant purple and yellow bruise is scaring small children.
No. A spider has laid eggs in the side of my face. I am certain of this.
Angry asian rat
Attacks my tender nubs
Until all’s that left are stubs
Wrap me in a warm rag
My face feels like a teabag
Moist happy mummy
Let’s not talk
We only have an hour
Push pull moan groan
You knew I’d like the lemongrass
But c’mon, now,
We both know it’s not love
Filed under aging, beauty, body image, communication, conflict, humor, irony, poetry, relationships, sarcasm, women, writing