“Bare cunt,” I mumble as she comes out of her bath. Now she is walking all around the apartment and singing at the top of her voice: “Bare cunt, oh, bare cunt!”

Addendum (February 20, 2012)

Soon after I penned this haiku, I showed it to my beloved. “Argh,” she frowned. “That’s why I’ve shown it to you,” I explained. “If you wish, I’ll erase it at once.” She just laughed. “It’s up to you,” I continued, “for this is how generations will remember you!” At this point she started laughing at the top of her voice. And she kept laughing for a long while. In short, she could not care less how generations would remember her. “My Gibbon,” she mumbled when she calmed down.