A sly, cold eel
Is crawling up my spine,
Wrapping round my organs;
Just killing time.
Then a warm wet squid
Makes my shoulders his;
Pressed into my face,
Makes my poor heart race.
Am I dying, is this it?
I question anxiously
For I'm really at a loss
But rest assured, they say;
Though sweating's your new hobby,
And if you freeze, you'll thaw,
It's most explanatory;
It's all just menopause.
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