"my fingernails hurt,"
she said as she reached back
and picked up a pencil.
"I'll draw hangnails
chewed to the quick
because of you, you know."
At this she thoughtfully gazed
at the sketchbook on her lap.
"Why don't they
make these pre-drawn."
And dug her teeth into the wood.
He humph'd in agreement
50 or so miles down the road.
She: "I wish I were a man.
Then the cuts and scars of my life
wouldn't be an eyesore."
`
`
`
`
`
