Delicious Slingshot

Just a girl with little gray eyes.
What�s your name?
What�s your hair smell like?
Can you play chess?
It�s a shock - your coral-pink ears unveiled.

Say something that shows me how vulnerable you are.
Something that makes me want to touch you.
Maybe I will.
If I don�t, that will be delicious.
Don�t flatten your fingerprints against the chalkboard again.
It�s a shock - your chalk-white neck unenshrouded.

Come with me.
Not to mountaintops or doves.
Not to chariots or lilies.
But to a world without children in single file.
Children with arms anywhere but straight at their sides.
Maybe a slingshot.
A place with fireflies� breath
on your shockingly unscreened lobster-red lips.

A place with you, white-bodied under warm sheets.
Strands of dusk will fall across your face.
I will discover the grooves between your ribs,
and in the morning I will boil eggs as white
as your shocking soft belly.
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