Girly (Francis, 1970)

What wonderfully twisted tales she weaves like lock twisted curls wrapped so tightly around her finger. That sharp grin like a razor through skin, and her blistering giggle like the songs of finger nails on wooden floors. What was that I heard in the night? The pitter-patter of wandering feet? It’s her mischievous eye peering through peek holes, and it widens with blood thumping curiosity. Her hand quivering with excited pulses. Oh, what unknowns have you tumbled into now Girly? So precious a friend who breaths heavy on your neck. You dare not share him. All others will face the poisonous pluck of your viscous venom. spelling them dizzy, and dazed, blurred and toothless, while you dance with them, giggling, giggling.

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