R.K. Singh - BURIAL

Frazzled at the day's end
when I smell her flesh
she curses my knots

and the two decades
of living the same routine
in kitchen and bed

and nowhere else to go
in shameless convenience
I look for the blankness

she kicks my image
in the little pool of blood
and buries my sex

R.K. Singh

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/burial-5/