Katherine’s Sister

She called me, though she didn’t have a clue
If I was some sadistic evil guy
Or something worse than that; she never knew
If she’d regret her phone call, by-and-by
I heard her drop the F-bomb, like a dare
To see if I offended easily
Or maybe just to see if I would care
That passion could proceed haphazardly
But words are more than passion in her voice
I heard her choose her words like something sweet
A kid would choose, like candy at the store
So what if it’s a word she might repeat?
I like her if she says it less or more
Irreverently, our conversation falls
But hey, they’re only words, and she’s got . . .

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