Viral Sentiment like Off-white Satin
His glinting seed attempts to scatter in
His partner. It is poison like a snake’s
Injection, not like love, for it is sin.
It spreads as far as semen can. It stakes
Out manly claims inside the victim. Gold
Is what it prospects for. The glisten of
The seeds is doomed to darkness. They are bold
And slick like death. The offices of love
Are vitiated. He lies, still, a brief
While, not to let his partner savor hope,
Just gathering his vigor. He leaves grief
Inside that body. It can learn to cope.
He’s given it his gift, more like a blench
Inside the victim. It’s a bleach-like stench.