Scorpions and Frogs
The scratch will infect your skin, because my finger nails are dirty. It wasn't meant as an attack, I was trying to be flirty.If you feel threatened by my play, call security. I'll hold my ground if fifteen show, but I'll leave if the number swells to thirty. That is not cowardice, that is just a sign of maturity. One look into my eyes and you will question my commitment to purity. I don't say these things to be lewd, If you knew the totality of my passions there is no world in which I would not be sued. If I truly spoke my mind, there is no sense in which it could not be perceived as rude. Sometime when I close my eyes tightly and slowly open them, women appear as an endless supply of restaurant food. Contrition is always on the table as a human being, but that really boils down to my constantly shifting mood. When Moses died, the Arch Angel Michael bared the devil from the wake, which I believe that was in the Book of Jude. Perhaps Stanley Kubrick produced a dream where I was fully clothed standing in front of a audience that was completely nude. I gave a stirring oration about the value of modesty, and for two minutes straight was loudly booed. It didn't matter, I still cashed my check for being the state sponsored prude. The rumors are much exaggerated about the power of my unsolicited bite. It does not make you vulnerable to the sun, nor does it turn you into a creature of the night. It does remove all false pretenses from years of socially engineered sight. Some call this an infernal nuisance, yet I there is a demographic that reports it back as an absolute delight. I can not say too much or I will give these delicate flowers a bit of a unnecessary fright. Keep me at bay for all the right reasons. It is more of a character defect, no need for the talk of demons. Everyone reaps what they sow, but I am awkwardly out of season. It's good to be known for something, like the famed meatballs of Sweden. Yet some legacies reverberate poorly, like the bad choice made in Eden. I survey the lips, hips, and thighs. I've attempted the rigors of monkery, but a few bustlines later, the impulse always dies. For every naughty thought one has, it is said that a kneeling Carmelite nun cries. You may build an orphanage, reform the criminal, and even make the sun to rise. If they know you are a dirty bird, that will ultimately determine reputational demise.
