I just want to be your pocket money,
Janglin' around in that favorite front left,
The stuff you can spend on whatever you want,
And no one can say a word.
Warm and worn and saved for the rainies,
Cherished like a precious bird,
I want to be your chosen vessel--
The one that comes together just so,
The piece you put back,
And sign your name to,
The one that you just can’t let go.
Let me be the apple in your butter,
The cream in your mocha latte.
Swirl me around with you and let me be
The swah in your sweet soirée.
-jenn long
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