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