SWALLOWING BOOKS

There should be no speculation in my gut.
I know his preference;
my honey loves only me.
He devours every inch of me,
especially when I strut.

But why then do I get
this sneaking suspicion in my gut
that our love line has been cut?

Did it hurt boy,
when you swallowed a dictionary?

Don’t worry,
I, too, have had a love-affair with words.
I, myself, have swallowed four
or was it three?

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