A No Frills Kinda Girl

She isn’t the type to pretty up her eyes or spend a half an hour on her hair.  Her shirt is on the floor along with her socks, jeans and heart.  When it’s time to leave the house she’ll put them all back on as if they were fresh out of the dryer (the heart goes in the bag with her bras so it doesn’t snag on any loose strings and pull the threads.  It’s a bit jagged after being worn so long).  Maybe some deodorant and a comb run through her hair, or maybe just a hat.

She hurts from the inside out.  Prick her heart with your sharpened edges and you won’t see a tear from her eyes, but you’ll also never get that firework stare of hers again.  The kind of look she gives you before she’s about to go off.  Shirt thrown in the air and exploding to the ground while her embers drift onto your body.  The crack of her explosion against your lips.  She only keeps that for special audiences.

Fancy food was never her thing.  A slice of of pizza did a better job of filling in the edges of her smile than a waiter telling you the wine list.  She doesn’t do backless gowns anyway.

If you hurt she’ll lick it better.  Her tongue has a magic glue that covers your wounds.  Just point to where it hurts and say, “please.”
Politeness makes her panties fall off.

Don’t complicate this.  It isn’t more than it has to be.  All you have to do is let her wings flit about around you and put away your net.  Some butterflies weren’t meant to be caught, just followed.

5 thoughts on “A No Frills Kinda Girl

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s