Chairs watched over him while he worked, the sofa stood guard at the door
While he shifted the sand, the delicate sand on the floor.

Beachcomber, you sickly man! get out my head and leave my house.
Your horrid Stench! That bilious nose! 
The way in which you bite your toes and scatter the nails about my bed
That pierce me when i sleep and dream!

I cannot!

For your squalid presence plagues me
The melodies you hum,
Like a mountain ripe with bees and megaphones
On the day that I deny you,
For: yes! that day will come!
You will know as always I have known

That  you are that part of me
Which is unpleasant to the eye
Which is hateful to the ear
Which cannot be touched
Cannot be smelled
And in tasting has the bitter tang of spite

Jealousy old companion
I would rip you from my heart!
 Breaking ribs, flesh and skin
As would any knowing of you're bite, stunted twin
stunted,malformed aching twin of love.