and I am gingham and smelling of spray starch, my whole day
beneath my nails, I am twang and the wide-eye, Really, Ralph?
Really? I hold my breath, cramming his
crave with stew meat
.
and ice water until it all comes exploding down, until he can't
turn his bulk in any direction without reaching a corner, until he
realizes, yet again, that his best
friend stinks of sewage and, for
.
reasons we pretend to have forgotten, I am never ever naked.
And yes, I know what my practiced smirk practically begs him
to do--Pow! Right in the kisser! But
that sweaty mitt, hovering
.
high with such sad engine behind it, will never fall. See, every
woman is damned with a man to raise, a swaggering snarl of belly
and bicep, and every ounce of the one
I've been given cracks dulcet
.
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