Revised sonnet #492
Ears summer swollen stricken searing heat
I dwell on words you speak your dearest gripe
I hang on sapphire studs youve plugged in neat
They shimmer shades of red at finger wipe
You criticise your man in cruellest swipe
In front of me I freeze your barbs too fleet
I know Im next in line you hold off hype
You share too much at whats just meet and greet
Inside two fingers forked the filter smudge
Its brown acts foil to crimson coloured nails
A misers pout at quarters close inhales
I slide you cigarette you meant to bludge
I wouldnt fancy being your future cuck
I puff you ring of smoke and wish you luck
Chorus cuck koek kuk
