Second

Two lungs full of mud,
 a throne of gold and navy
Going once

One catacomb body,
with a film of smut
and eclectic sentiments
to cover every cadaverous memory.

Skin flicks of milk and water
projecting down every swallowing passage,
into every secret place.
Going twice

One lead tongue
to thump out the syllables of all handsome fears
and erotic regrets.

To sink
in a mouthful of rosewater.
Romantics,
fermented and gushing over lips
swollen by another man’s lust.

All second hand
Going three times
Sold,
to the Parisian with dreamboat cheekbones.

Just throw her in a box
so we can all get out of this f*****g basement.