I fucked ‘em both and in my head I can’t separate ‘em. Ok, Kimmy’s got bigger tits and Charley’s hips is like a boy’s so it’s like she aint got hips at all. But I swear in my head I can’t pull ‘em apart.
They got a bit land out of town and they keep chickens and sheep and a milk-gifting cow. And they grows vegetables in one field, peas and onions and carrots. And they work hard as any man, their hands all callused and their arms all taught string, and so they do alright.
‘Bout once a month they take a day off. They come cycling into town with their hair down and a thirst for cold beer and yearning for company. Heads turning like windmills when they walk down the street and men and boys standing taller to be noticed. I know cos I do the same.
They are so fucking beautiful they was made to break men’s hearts, I swear it. I know cos they broke mine. It was Kimmy as started it, only it might have been Charley – I get ‘em all mixed up. She sat down beside me in The Cold Tap bar and she asked if I was big enough to buy her a beer. I thought all my ships had come in at once when she kissed me and put her hand on my leg, high up. It was just the one night, and later she took me by the hand and led me out back. We fucked there, under the breathless stars, fucking quick as rabbits, and Kimmy said I was sweet as plums in syrup and she wanted to eat me all up. I said I loved her – only, it might have been Charley and not Kimmy.
I rode out to their place a couple of days after and I knocked on their door. It was Charley as answered and she said me hi and invited me in. She poured me some homemade lemonade in a tall glass, with ice. And no, she said, Kimmy hadn’t mentioned me. Not a word.
Then Charley came onto me, touching my arm and sitting real close and breathing hot in my ear. And soon enough we was at it, all in a scurry, and so fast I almost don’t believe it happened. And when we was laying back, and catching our breath, well, I maybe said I loved her, too. Only I might be talking ‘bout Kimmy and not Charley.
I see ‘em sometimes, when they cycle on into town, and I feel a sudden ache in me, like a part of me’s broken inside. And I make a point of dropping into The Cold Tap for a beer. I swear they don’t let on that they know me, not Kimmy and not Charley. And they don’t even look my way when I call out to ‘em, all their attention on some other boy that might buy ‘em enough beer to get ’em through their one night in town.
Yeh, so I fucked ‘em both, maybe, and I can’t separate ‘em, ‘cept by the size of their tits or the jut of their hips, and I told ‘em both that I loved ‘em and I do. And now my heart is twice broken whenever I see ‘em and that’s all I got.
Patricia Ann McNair 
I fucked ‘em both and in my head I can’t separate ‘em. Ok, Kimmy’s got bigger tits and Charley’s hips is like a boy’s so it’s like she aint got hips at all. But I swear in my head I can’t pull ‘em apart.
They got a bit land out of town and they keep chickens and sheep and a milk-gifting cow. And they grows vegetables in one field, peas and onions and carrots. And they work hard as any man, their hands all callused and their arms all taught string, and so they do alright.
‘Bout once a month they take a day off. They come cycling into town with their hair down and a thirst for cold beer and yearning for company. Heads turning like windmills when they walk down the street and men and boys standing taller to be noticed. I know cos I do the same.
They are so fucking beautiful they was made to break men’s hearts, I swear it. I know cos they broke mine. It was Kimmy as started it, only it might have been Charley – I get ‘em all mixed up. She sat down beside me in The Cold Tap bar and she asked if I was big enough to buy her a beer. I thought all my ships had come in at once when she kissed me and put her hand on my leg, high up. It was just the one night, and later she took me by the hand and led me out back. We fucked there, under the breathless stars, fucking quick as rabbits, and Kimmy said I was sweet as plums in syrup and she wanted to eat me all up. I said I loved her – only, it might have been Charley and not Kimmy.
I rode out to their place a couple of days after and I knocked on their door. It was Charley as answered and she said me hi and invited me in. She poured me some homemade lemonade in a tall glass, with ice. And no, she said, Kimmy hadn’t mentioned me. Not a word.
Then Charley came onto me, touching my arm and sitting real close and breathing hot in my ear. And soon enough we was at it, all in a scurry, and so fast I almost don’t believe it happened. And when we was laying back, and catching our breath, well, I maybe said I loved her, too. Only I might be talking ‘bout Kimmy and not Charley.
I see ‘em sometimes, when they cycle on into town, and I feel a sudden ache in me, like a part of me’s broken inside. And I make a point of dropping into The Cold Tap for a beer. I swear they don’t let on that they know me, not Kimmy and not Charley. And they don’t even look my way when I call out to ‘em, all their attention on some other boy that might buy ‘em enough beer to get ’em through their one night in town.
Yeh, so I fucked ‘em both, maybe, and I can’t separate ‘em, ‘cept by the size of their tits or the jut of their hips, and I told ‘em both that I loved ‘em and I do. And now my heart is twice broken whenever I see ‘em and that’s all I got.