You misprize my grip!

Could you rigidly itch
for the opposite camp,
couched, spraddled*,
an arm twist to bed her?

Thin-skinned is the plunger
about to tread water
in hog wallow.

Her prickly hairs
nor taste buds
slacken where your sinews clinch.

Does she wrist that rump,
uncrinkle your penetrability,
till it drowns with bliss?

*to sprawl