His hair was sand paper

and his skin was light colored leather

and his face was a canyon

and his eyes were small black beads

and his mouth was a desert.

His laugh was a snickering hyena

and his sneeze was thunder

and his burp was lightening.

His nose was a vacuum cleaner

and his nose hairs were dusters.

His chest was a pillow

and his heart was a dead end job.

and kindness was a 10,000 piece puzzle

and his attention was a speeding vehicle

and his vision was a drunken driver

His arms were a jail cell

and his touch was a ghost

His wallet was a vault

and his money was a long contract.

and his health was dirt

His blood was a furnace

and his temper was a dwarf

and his words were blood thirsty knives

and his humor was a serial killer

and his thoughts were desks of jumbled papers

and his faith was a coffin.

His grin was a coiled rattle snake ready to attack

and his presence was a fatal disease

and his footprints were false gold.

His one liners were gunshots in an amusement park

and his legs were navy ships

and his steps were death

and his toes were gas soaked tulips.

And she was an answered prayer.

Her appearance was an unforeseen miracle.

She was the sand, and he, the ocean.  Together they were the beach.

His receding waves took too much of her with every crash.

She warned him, but skepticism wouldn’t allow him to accept it.

When he returned, she was gone,

alone,

left with nothing.

He doesn’t seem to mind.