His toenails are like razors in bed.
He giggles when I forget and wrap
My legs around his as if wed—
Not by God, but by kiss, slap,
Tickle and release. He stops when I
Run my finger up his calf. He
Yelps, retreats, and then, with a sigh
Calls for a ceasefire. "Hmmm. We'll see,"
I pronounce, but with a balanced smile.
Then we abandon words for a while.
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