Made of fingernails

I’d bite anything
if it was made of fingernails.
Right down to the cuticles.
I’d happily swim in judgement
as I nibbled a translucent puppy,
a crunchy postbox.
Imagine the filth underneath a sofa
made of fingernails.
It would taste like pudding to me
in a world of stress relief.

© Carl Burkitt 2020

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