I wondered
If she was a minx
Or a dove
Pretending
To be a minx
I wondered
If compliments
Were still allowed
Could I?
Admire her beauty
Her Cleopatra cringe
Her French je ne sais quoi
Her Joan of Arc style
Wanting
To punch me out
Wanting
To straddle me
Like a soldier
Like a boy
In a fist fight
Prone to swoop
Like a winged creature
I prepared my fangs
As she prepared hers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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