Frankly, my dear,
You ain’t no deer!
No coy thing,
Fragile, timid,
Ready to run
At any sound…
Ready to run away
Into fearful hiding!
Naw!
You are a Molly Bloom
Blooming giggling deep belly lust!
Ale drinking
Pipe smoking
Pushing my hand deep inside you
After waiting amused
For us others to pick up
And join you
In a lusty jam!
Legs wide open,
Eyes trusting,
Yours is a fleshy universe,
On stage
In rapture trance
Musical warmth flowing
From sucking joy!
And I ain’t no deer hunter,
My dear!
© Frank Moore 10/14/2000