Fuzzy Heart.

FUZZY HEART.
sneak

She wants to trim her pubic hair -
into the shape of a fuzzy heart.
Reluctantly I help her -
to make a cautious start.
She drops her knickers nervously,
to reveal an unkempt mound.
I lose communication -
as my jaw drops to the ground.
She giggles as my double-take -
becomes a vacant stare.
Scissors glint defiantly -
in the steamy bathroom air.
Suffering for 'arts' sake -
and another fashion trend.
'I'm going in', I stutter -
as my trembling hands descend.
Trimming in a frenzy.
Breath taken with each cut.
She chats about the weather.
I keep my big mouth shut.
Concentrating on the moment.
Every snip a master-stroke.
I'm bound to be the envy -
of every horny bloke.
But suddenly disaster!
She screams the room apart.
A cut below the average.
A fuzzy broken heart.
My guilt all too apparent,
in the creases of my frown.
She now resembles carnage,
in a white hospital gown.

sneak