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Placenta
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Septopus
I am not beautiful
When I've seen me in the mirror I laughed at this image that was me
So much ugliness has something funny
The antic is my face
Emetic for the glance
My cold body warms no chair
Regards to Hieronymus Bosch
Certainly erotism should be in a way grotesque
Which transgression could be more delicious than a violation of good taste?
My love roots in a dunghill
It bears beautific blooms
And therefore it's repulsive
I am not beautiful
Can intelligence be teasing?
Seductive like beauty
The joys of love are not granted me
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