4.

Viscosity locked between frog spawn,

Raindrops falling, and up again,

Get it off pat, learn the language,

By form and rote, round, in circles,

Top to tail, top and tail,

Round fruit unchanging.

Gay lives lost in such floss.

Could just say: I love you.

Bastardised, brutalised, battered and bruised,

Holes in broken hearts and seeping, unhealing sores.

Rubbing pus such affection,

Gagging on swollen tongues,

Far too much pretended understanding and pretenses of love.

Not my: I love you.

Gather up in large arms and hold close,

Moody, muddled, and seemingly morose,

Never will stop me.

Never will want to stop me, too much to say –

Never an end.