on display (working draft)

I framed my

giraffe legs today:

gold-toned beams,

rich blue skirt.

 

I want the sprinkles of your eyes;

I’m ice cream, love,

I made it right.

 

Sculpted calves like

honey on rye

and my words in my mouth

stuck like

thick honey pie.

 

My honey pie,

my whipped delight

I taste too much

and you’re done with mine.

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