Cute coos, never barks.
Cute is tiny. cute is flimsy.
Cute begs to be touched, squished, abused, dominated
No is not always No.

Cute are the baby teeth, the small throats, the mouth halfway open, the things that fit in the palm of your hand and may just disappear if you stretched your fingers fast enough. Cute is the rowdy that mellows with a pinch on the cheek. The used up plushie. The dimple ready to go. Cute is a body already melted for the hug. Winnie the pooh, face down ass up, stuck in the jar. The voice that whispers, never shouts. The thing that yields. Cute is the tiny teacup always sporting the mandatory chipping, that makes your hand feel so much more bigger. Cute is what anticipates and only ever anticipates.

I could just eat you up. Your lisp, the clothes too big on you, how clumsy you are on your knees.
To only be wanted.
To be watered, charged, patched up,handled, mishandled. To be eaten.
Your fur to be rubbed till it flattenes.
To be smaller
And smaller, and smaller
Until There is nothing but desire.