when it hops it hops.

a wiry puppet
strung together and
painted green and black.

when it hops it hops.

a cringed waiting face
a scrunched holding space
my soft hand holds her.

when it hops it hops.

her cold, slimy legs
her wet, filmy knees
her yellow white eyes.

when it hops it hops.

now maybe she stops.
I want her to stay.
In my wanting hand.

Do not cringe, my frog,
I had hoped for you.
In my hoping hand.