You rejoice in your scaly skin
that has grown silvery-brown feathers now
over dimming eyes
as your open-ended lips pose selfishly
I may without fail try
to curb these timely chuckles
in my lover’s rattling breast
bury them with a howl
and a nimble song of ridicule
in honor of your preceded vanity.
I may also bow down with
these forty three words
kneeling in jealousy and tame
and welcome the lurching rumor
of your recently acquired beauty
with a two-faced smile.
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