Little Daydream, by Zoe Frances Mulford

Holy moly call me
‘cause all I wanna do
is lay under rays with you,
yeah, maybe start my 401 k with you,
overheat in saunas,
overhear gossip,
outlive your pet fish with you.

My dear,
someday we’ll pretend
to be vegetarians for a week
in hopes of feeling particularly chic.
And midweek,
when we feel icky and itchy and ill,
achy for a little loin,
you’ll be on the bed.
all unsuspecting,
and I’ll break the diet,
eating you whole.
Licking slowly your arm
like you were the last popsicle at the ice cream truck
and it was 105º out and I just got off the monkey bars,
hell, I’m taking my time,
savoring the curves of your fingers over my fat tongue,
and sucking on your stomach,
where you always say you now wish
you didn’t have that tattoo,
the other man’s name.
Pick the lint
from your belly button with my tongue.
Thank god you’re an innie.
Oh, my carnivorous body will sing.
Honey,
that’s such sweet honey.
You’re truly far too cool for me
& girl,
I have no chance.

Oh lady lady love me,
you’ll always be my only, my only, my only lazy lady,
getting shaded under our *kiss me* *slowly *tree.
Oh lady lady, how does that shade feel.
Oh lady, lady, the heat is really far too much today, isn’t it.

Zoe Frances Mulford is currently attending the University of Massachusetts Boston, studying poetry and developing new and better ways to teach poetry to younger students. Her work has previously appeared in the City Quill and Grl Mag.

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