squeeze me Mina urged; dry your coronavirus
tears on my curvaceous skirt, let’s sing about
renewal as I settle your tattered nerves;
hug me ‘til our pulses become one or as long
as you dare; my generous full-figure’s ideal
for loving, cuddling, embracing, consoling—not
obnoxiously strutting down high fashion runways
like fragile, anorexic models; pitch perfect,
big-boned gals like myself never break
like plastic, playboy pretzels who avoided
human touch before self-quarantine or
social distancing became the norm….simply
afraid they’d fracture bones, crack nails,
scratch skin, smear lipstick, ruffle hair;
both vagabonds and heroes surrender to
my calypso heart, tantalizing, irresistible,
enticing, no less during pandemic days
than blissful nights of endless, cushy celebration;
take my hand, stroke my cheeks, kiss my lips,
move forward, reciprocate my tactile affection.