Dear Luna's Butt

Dear Luna's Butt
A Seriously Serious Poem by Scrivener Blooms


Dear Luna's Butt, I am writing you a letter,
With the hopes that it reaches you in good strength,
I am truly hope you are feeling better,
From that time you sat down on that full nail's length.

I would like to extend the sympathies of my own ass,
Which hurt just as much when on that nail your rump crashed,
And although my fanny lacks your rather impressive mass,
It still proper felt like my own behind had just been bashed.

This is probably because you did in fact bash it,
Kicking in my rear out of spite like a foal,
And now I find it uncomfortable to try and sit,
And like my buttocks is one cheek short of whole.

But this letter is one of pity, and not reprimand,
For you see, I regret the vengeance I have already taken,
It was just that for a moment I fell under passion's command,
And you've already fallen into my trap, if I'm not mistaken.

By the time you read this, it will already be too late,
As I replaced your bum cream with poison from a certain snake,
You know the one: you told me about it on our last date,
You mentioned you were allergic to it while stuffing your face with cake.

Revenge, however, is clearly not the dish for me,
As I hear you running around, scraping your posterior against trees,
Your yelling and frustration and boil-covered derriere gives me no glee,
But at least now the score is even between us, you see.

Butt, tonight, I promise that I will caress you,
I will rub you with aloe and soothe your boils and rash;
Butt, let me make one little thing clear, too:
If you mess with my hiney, I will buck up your ass.