Although my mind’s as button-bright
As any hedgerow berry,
My body wants to take a bite
Of your translucent cherry.

I’ve tried to talk it out of it
By pointing out your preference,
But either it’s got little wit
Or doesn’t get the reference.

And so I live with my desire
As silence does with clatter.
And, though I’m old and quickly tire,
That doesn’t seem to matter.

It’s your allure that keeps me young;
That’s why I’m hanging out my tongue.

Photo by Kate Kozyrka on Unsplash

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