Heat Lamp

A poem about me loving and obsessing over my favorite person, with anecdotal metaphors.

You have some tough, tight, pretty skin
I'm pretty fat, ugly, messy, hot, gross, and sweaty
From my grotesque flesh, to deep within
I can tell you have scales made for heavy petting

Like platinum, you shine with the same old coat
That scuffed-burnt pink could go well with my madder-lust red
And while I may just be an obscene alpine goat
I feel mutually we would get by gladder, if we were both trusted

See, I'm not the best looking satyr with a 2nd rate sense of satire
But I can see you are the best looking serpent, perhaps the most important
And love, we all can see (or at least me) that your scales so tired
So please dump your molting past onto me, and let a lonely goat sort them

If you ever need a warm tomb with some room
Or a neat space to feel snuggly and safe
I could supply a bright blood red moon for you
Sleep away in my infrared darkroom cave

I could be your heat lamp
If only, you'd be my snake
Naga, come set up camp
I'll protect you till you wake