POEM: Changed My Profile Pic from Tight Fittin’ Jeans


I couldn’t hide in my faded denim clothes he liked.

When I played on his wall, he got truly psyched;

He felt like a musketeer, I felt like his queen.

Oh, i knew what he wanted… inside my tight fittin’ jeans..

He said, “What’s a woman… like you… doin’ in this game?

I’d like to see you in real life. I hope that you’re wantin’ the same.”

I said, “I’ve got your number, Wolfie, and I know what that means.

You’re askin’ can you see me without my tight fittin’ jeans.”

I said “I think you’re a good man and you pro’bly do as you please,

And, I like to ride my bike…but, I’ll be your squeeze?

You know, I could write us into many of my book’s scenes.

And, Wolfie, please get me out of these tight fittin’ jeans.”

We flirted without conscience and, Wow, the moves he knew.

Yes, we both got satisfied… both of our dreams came true.

Oh how we played out our fantasies… each of our bodies sheens…

‘Cause a wolf was found inside this cowgirl biker’s tight fittin’ jeans.

I’m glad he sees me still a lady, what else can I say?

Both horses got broke the night he showed me how to play;

And I know I never held a wolf like the man I hold as he peens

My naked body that he wants without those tight fittin’ jeans.

For now I’m back on my bike, I left him with a kiss.

But we know we’ll have many more nights of bliss.

And my northern cowboy says he knows what it means

To dream of a cowgirl bikin’ lady without her tight fittin’ jeans.

Transmogrified (from the wolf who thanked Conway Twitty) “Her Profile Picture Was ‘Tight Fittin’ Jeans’”

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