Image: Clean up by Lemanshots
The cleaners nodded
Satisfaction written in their bizarre minds
They wiped their hands
On grimy rags at jobs completion.
Before them lay the body of the cleansed man.
His soul picked clean like a desert carcass.
In their minds their thoughts drifted
From one to the other.
Challenging thought one
Intriguing thought another.
Exhausting thought the third.
This soul required a major makeover
Clogged to the gunnels
With every vice imaginable.
His grotesqueness they concluded
Highlighted his decline
He was a glutton in all things.
Fine food, fine wine,
His lust for the long legged blonde
The woman he fantasied about
Took extra cleansing
Heavy duty scrubbing
Far more than the usual elbow grease.
In his mind her form was cemented,
Eyes that flashed welcome
Thighs tantalisingly teasing.
They rubbed her out, extracting all she was.
At the jobs conclusion
They collected their spoils
According to their brand of perversion
Retired to shadowy dismal spaces
Where they poured over the man’s folly
Delighting in their own lascivious game.