I married a blue-flank skink. A god
decreed. I tried to be a good mate. Played
but didn't fight; at least I didn't bite
too hard.

But with lizards, hard to know. Paired
We were so narrow. Scrawn
y repertoire. Behind my meat-ensnared
day heart

content just to sun on a fence rail, do
skink pushups, eat flies (squirm), sleep in
a crack and mutely mate... soul began
to yawn.

Patience lost at last; soul rose from still-
living lizard me adream. Now from
my airy eyrie they're mere slim fingernails
of scales. Pared. Amazed I stayed inside
so long.