Impish grin, he approaches,
Despite shriek shouting, ignores, encroaches,
Fingers find a tender spot,
I plead, I bargan, but all for naught,
Features may betray as blithe,
Beneath my laugh I wriggle and writhe,
I love this man, but becoming fickle,
Refusing to cease this unending tickle,
Heart sputters, "Wait!", Brain triggers, "Attack!"
It could not be helped, since I laid on my back,
Swift as Taylor, flex en pointe,
Foot reflexively greets teeth, torture finally disjoint.