his words are black and red and vomit green
his train of thought's route's picturesque --
but utterly obscene
i know nothing's drawn him to me
beyond pairs of scarlet cheeks and 34Ds
the opportunist strikes; sniffing out and scouting
the internal court case of "when the moment's right"
vs "who else could possibly want me?"
innocence and uncharted thighs
the rarity of a body that might not say 'no'
and maybe i'm a cock-tease for leaping to my senses
but quite frankly, he'll always be a toad