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Poetry

little tiger  

I let the baby bite me

he dug and dug

never would there be blood

 

this little tiger baby

sometimes angry enough

many times he won’t bite me

and puts up his hands for love

 

but when he does does bite me

calmly

angrily the baby bites me

he sucks and sucks

my arm for very life he hugs

 

and when he does does bite me

delightedly the baby bites me

he must

he always must

for his honour is his lust

 

and when he does does bite me

vengefully and spitefully the baby bites me

as if I betray his trust

upon my fingers and legs and arms

his little square teeth are thrust

 

yet I am happy the baby bites me

and never too much fussed

fascinated the baby bites me

because when the baby bites me

I never feel more loved

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