I’m dropping you hints.

You take them, like flies,

With little bits on the hairs of your legs.

And finally back home,

They’re spider eggs, you see!

And now you’re dusting them off your coat, 

And Sensibility tries to reign supreme, 

But Panic wins,

And you’re making a spectacle 

Out of yourself,

Trying to shake the cooties off,

Those cursed cooties

You knew you’d get from me!

But there is a better way.

Don’t take the hints.

Just take what I say.

Take me at my word.

Then when you lie low

In your crib, 

Your bébé mobile will be songbirds,

And you’ll find your halo

Has been polished,

Thanks in part to the very blessed cooties

You never thought you’d see,

And you got them all from me!

 Because I’m not really a hint dropper,

Just so you know,

And any hints you ‘take’ from me

May lead you down a possibly very interesting, 

Very weird, very, albeit, very, very, wrong road.

-jenn