The moment they see you alone
With their charming endeavor
And their sharp claws hidden
Ready to use
"Pret-a-porter"
The instant you become weak
And you show your soft, fluffy skin
That skin you used to stir just a few days ago
"How much I like your soft body
You are soft from head to toes"
But my fingers will never again end up
Between your sharp teeth
I am not made for fleeting, passing days
And for romances that only last a week.
But I've learnt my lesson now
Murakami would be proud
Of his little sheep
She finally understands
She's more than a prize to win
And she's not made for a wolf
For he never changes his skin.
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