Buckle-bunny
Another pair of cowboy boots
beneath my bed
banishing dreams of
a permanent man
right out of my head
They call me a buckle-bunny
but that sets too low the bar
for at the end of the night
I take home the rodeo star
He rides wild horses
and even wilder bulls
I lap him up by the mouthfuls
Lust curls in my belly
when I spy the champion buckle
his laughter is sweet as the honeysuckle
An aging buckle-bunny is what I see
until the next cowboy smiles at me
Copyright © Trisha Sugarek | Year Posted 2022
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