He built a fortress to defend her braids.
He built it from pebbles in his shoes,
Never opening his eyes as he built it.
She saw how much he loved her and
Blindfolded him with her ear lobes.

From a turret, he watched the landscape,
Could foretell the future from its windy grass.
He already knew that one day
He’d cuddle with her femur and funny bone,
Remembering the bitterness of her moans.

Two pigeons mated in her mouth.
Perched on her teeth, they peered at the fortress,
Then made a nest in her wide, decrepit bellybutton.
There were tunnels in her lungs,
So the pigeons could hide deep inside her
During the onslaught of an enemy.