Femme
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Femme, femme, ô gentille femme
Mon amour, ma fleur, mon entame
Dans mon calepin journalier
It was him who found me.
The giant with the calloused palms
I was simply a form
Clumsy in my gargantuan new body
Horns piercing from my back;
Cunning, yet sweet, deceitful, but kind
Please don't hurt her glass mind
Cold to the touch and clear to understand
She hopes no one sees the cuts she has
The ones she makes with her very own hands
Here and there
Lip gloss on there lips
Toned body and curvy hips
They bend down
and i stare longer
than needed
I blush at my faux pas
All the things I coud do
to her