The Pure And Lascivious Period Poem by Brevet Wilson

She wore faux fox furs
dyed blue,
she said it matched her purple hair.
and ate nothing but Ramen noodles with miracle whip.
She was an angel.

When I was sick in bed with cancer
she leaned over me placing cool rags on my burning skull.
Many times I would wake from a fever dream
to find her sitting on the floor
next to my bed
reading one of my books...
waiting to see if and when I would wake up.

On my good days we would go 'Yard shopping'
3: 00 AM we would sneak through the neighborhood,
looking for lawn ornaments,
usually cherubs embracing one another,
that sort of thing.
We would sneak them home and 'augment' them.
using playdoh.
Make a tongue snaking out of a cherubs mouth
into the others and through its cheek.
Where the cherubs embraced we painted red scratch marks
as if these symbols of innocent love were lust crazed demon children.

She would giggle as each new little atrocity occured to us.
I know it's cliche
but her giggles really did sound like a stream,
gurgling.
It wasn't a pretty laugh,
but her face was beautiful when she did.

On our late night jaunts she was always on the look out for aluminum ladders.
to sell
for her heroin.
Which she would always share.

Now that I think back on it there is symmetry to it.
Our turning cherubic angels in to lewd, lascivious beings,
Her being my lewd lascivious angel,
in reality she was pure..
beatific.