come on, pretty boy, come on now,
i ask you: let me in–
between my thighs there is no pistol,
but i’ve long since learned to pretend.
my palms are rougher yet than yours
my legs are just as strong,
your last conquistador held you fast,
i can pin you just as long.
pretty, pretty angel boy
judge me not by what i lack,
i promise, if you unleash me
there’s nothing i’ll hold back.
come on now, pretty, pretty boy.
i beg you: take me down.
that princess sounds the knell
each time– i’ll not utter a sound.
i’m just as good with pistols
though i learned to shoot them late.
you’re dubious, as i lack a holster,
but i can compensate.
come on pretty boy, oh come on,
i beseech you: take me on;
i got a whole case full of pistols now,
and the night’s forever young.
we’ll play this game for hours,
days, weeks– it matters not–
i promise by the time it’s done
you won’t miss what i haven’t got.
i’ll show you what i’ve got.