I didn't mean to touch him with fingertips laced with paralyzers,
didn't mean to take them down.
Watch them crumble to my bosom
and clutch my waist
like they could climb into my womb.
I am a woman with an apple pie warmth,
more twinkles in my eyes than Georgia's sky.
I have hospitality gripping my arms.
Thees last boys run to my
riverbank thighs
and watermelon sweet lips.
You seduce men with intent.
I fired without aim but hit-
every-
time-
Don't blame me.
I have seen you
walk with your telephone wire hair,
your receiver mouth,
down to your very belt length skirt,
you are nothing but a booty call.
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