I was executed on a Tuesday

For an unspecified crime

As I sat in the chair

You stood in front of me

And removed your vest

I was asked which I admired more

Your breasts of your underarm hair

I chose the latter for the comfort

It brought me on this my last day

You rubbed your hidden hair in my face

It smelt of perfume and light sweat

I then felt your pistol cold against

The nape of my exposed neck