Drink Me

She loves men who make her feel tiny
craves the ragdoll droop
of her back as they carry her
like a rolled up rug into the bedroom,
unfurl her onto the queen-size.

One day
she wants
to be small
enough
to slip
through keyholes,
fingers,
to be loose
and invisible
as a crane fly.
She dreams
of swooping
on puddings,
of landing in ears
and buzzing
men mad.