with frogs, a kiss risks a prince.
Galant, for sure. But so ga-ga
for ribboned ringlets and lace
flounces that a girl changes,
arranging herself like a tray.
A lizard, though, doesn’t ask
for nothing. Another species?
Three thousand times his size?
Wear a dress so tight I look
like a can of busted biscuits?
He pushes-up, flares his throat.
And for that
knee-taut, hip-sure, belly-slack,
nude-without-nakedness ease,
I say, hey babe, fuck me.
Make me that undone.
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