Plucking her delicate hand through the polymer sock,
Digging out the tickling victualage
On her ticklish palm, soft, rhythmic,
Through the translucent nylon sheet,
An effortful grope and digging pull.
I peered, squinted, and she fondled
Her tender palm on mine –
A cold feeling of innocuity braced me.
I tittered as she fumbled with the crumbly chips
Paring the disclosure of her unencumbered eyeballs
To my hindsight, and flattening the bliss
Of her green self to my refined mind.
The crumbling slipped off her moped lip
She squelched through and pulled it back,
Clenching her fragile teeth to the mutilated crumb.
Her foster hummed aloof, while she chewed along.
I would say, it pays to be this dense.
If I could recuperate my youthful soul
From perspicacity, ego and societal fuss
I would dash back at her puny feet
Hungry for a tender kiss of plain innocence.