I'd like to think that her ivory dress
riding up her leg is an accident,
& her cherry red dyed hair is natural
just like her breasts, because they're
quite nice.
every freckle on her pore free face
was placed there with a brown marker
& she says that it's fun to color herself.
"we all can't be born fairy children,"
she says mixing coco cola & vodka,
preaching that it cures her every
giggle & set of hiccups.
we make love to each other, & though
she says that she's straight,
I'll take her any night.
every kiss she places on my neck turns
to glitter & I have a fairy's touch lingering
on my breasts & my legs.

she hugs me & pulls away, giggling & then
drinking her potion, whispering that
I'm covered in her fairy dust.

my fairy lover is a little crazy,
but it's her trade mark.