i suppose there are variations of this name...
some cite it as of: Turkic origin...
   i'm not going to agree or disagree...

evidently the insertion of the second surd H
was of my own scrutiny...
although it's not necessary...
i don't suppose the first surd H is necessary
either... given that i've employed
a macron on top of the vowel
to make emphasis of elongation...
which the surd H also stresses:

instead of kaa... either way:
a double emphasis...
like... writing something in: italics
after a colon...
the colon is an emphasis as is the italics...
"misnomer"...

... and some ****** ska-punk
with KULT's - brooklyńska rada żydów...
like any ****** might make summary
of: Oh... they left?
what happened to that old saying of theirs
that my grandfather recounted
to me once...
of the 'ebrews living in Poland...

wasze ulice, nasze kamienice...
your streets... our tenements...
i don't suppose...

anyways... enough of that...
no wonder... i'm no duracell bunny...
i can't just get a hard-on
in a company of two...
it's different when i'm completely:
unabashed... solo...
today i checked myself...
not much to look at...
cleavage, some thighs... hair... lips...
hands...
six times i spotted myself
with a proper wedding tackle...
six times i stopped myself from
*******...
so... this thing's on?
it's working...

now i see the bigger... funnier picture...
a few night ago...
after a... draught... "season":
i'm starting to suspect those 3 years
are actually 4 years without being
intimate with a women...

a dysfunction of the *******...
i'm not going to pop some ******* pill...
it's like push-ups...
or the trick the mind plays when
you're cycling up a hill and feed into
those thoughts of giving up...

perhaps i just wasn't that much into her?
perhaps she wasn't that much into me...
upon entering the brothel
she was sitting alone...
the matriarch said there would be more
available in about 20 minutes...
she was sitting alone...
i figured... if this isn't going to be a slap
in the face...
i don't know what will...

i like 'em... older... cougar-esque...
with a full-blossom of hips... stomach...
****... *** and **** like a royals-royce rather than
a sporty Lamborghini...
skin like... well worn leather...
nothing too: cherished and un-tested
akin to a ******...

for an hour i tried...
worked for about ten minutes...
but was i crippled with a sense of shame that would
turn me into a Jack ol' Ripper with
thoughts on revenge...
she was pretty... all that's pretty about
the Romanian countryside...
fake lashes... extravagant nails...
i caressed her... we exchanged some words:

ochi (romanian)... aha... oczy (******):
eyes... lips... ears... eyebrows...
i bit her tenderly to test the waters...
pinched her... suckled a while...
while my hands were already all octopus below
her threshold...
i ****** at my fingers and tested whether she was
aroused...
hell: i've missed most times than i could ever:
****'s sake... all that *****
and the point of insertion is always below
what i'm "expecting"...

but i drank too much...
better be all the more nervous and only 50ml of
whiskey in than... 300ml of whiskey
and having issues with the ******* tool...
literally...
hell... i would be willing to put on a strap-on
***** but... seeing how she was not in the mood:
and i found myself: not in the mood either...

eh... what could be bad with some kissing...
some caressing some hugging some...
if i were really going for some
Trojan cohort ****-buddy: forget me not
egoism...
i'd have them lined up, wouldn't i?
3 / 4 years without touching someone
so intimately...
i call that the ice-breaker date in the brothel...

mind you... i cleaned up after myself:
i insisted...
i took that welcome shower prior...
and as we walked out... i sat down...
cornered...
now there were three of them and the matriarch
sitting in the waiting room...

hmm...i suppose: UN-like talking to three
girls in a nightclub...
talking to three prostitutes in a brothel...
some "things" become... obvious...
i have something they want...
they have something i want...
who's going to date? no... one...

me talking casually with three prostitutes
in a brothel would be...
unlike that ****** funfair of three girls
in a nightclub...
the cards are laid on the table...
you either take it... or don't...

recently i've been listening to some "mano-sphere"
******* and i'm just like...
no... i can't listen to this...
get over it... stop talking about it...
turn your focus onto something else...
me... i just drank too much
and... she wasn't my type...
but she was sitting all alone and if i waited
with her for those 20 minutes before
the one that's my type walked in...

just some tenderness...
i don't mind paying for that...
at least there won't be any free nagging and *******...
ha! obviously!

- and as we walked out from a room of
improper deeds
there sat... Khāda... there was that immediate
connection: she: all leather...
like an armchair in reverse...
it's so terrible to stress sexuality among
the English:
why do i have to be that...
perverted... congested... ****-lord...
this...                  oh-it's-naughty borderline
gimmick... i don't like the concept of ***
among these natives...

but there she sat... this implosion
of an armchair...
glorious in her skin as leather...
she said she was Turkic... i figured...
honey... you belong further east down
the silk road: you are teasing the Raj...
all the more for me to like...

as she started to tease me with her *******
in her hands...
i told her: i'll be coming for seconds
for you... believe me...
she liked me... she even wanted to have a listen
to what music i was listening to:

wardruna's helvegen...
she asked me for my name...
matthew...           wha? she asked...
matti... mateo... mathias... mateusz...
second name... conrad...
two good names to have...
so i asked what her's was...
up came  Khāda...
but of course i had to...
   write it down on a tissue for her to read...

what a bulging plush of womanhood...
everything i want to be in love with...
older than me... plump...
something i can fix my pincers on:
creasing some more of the already established:
mandible parts...
well worn... skin like leather...

as i departed with 3 glasses of delay...
her friend joked at me being a gentleman for kissing
her hand upon parting...
Khāda i kissed on the hand and cheek...
while this Romanian girl lodged between them
i kissed on the forehead...

you can't not love women...
even if they are prostitutes...
   i can't listen to men stress the need for the purity of
women...
i've listened... i've come back with
stomach pains...
now a test... i'll drink less
and worry: even less...
about... what's that word...
  that word... exposure... no...
upkeeping... no...
stamina... almost...
         PERFORMANCE!

never you mind that i pull my ******* back
to give imitation to the most pristine
representation of the phallus....
among women who....
will not don a niqab etc.?
               for a compensation?
no problem:
i'll just just sheave and practice jerking off...
oh... this time...
i better not drink...

Khāda seems like a woman that's all that's
fun and i don't want a limp-biscuit-of-a-****
to worry her...
she seemed into me and i was... most certainly
into her...

the moment i forget having to desecrate
virgins... and lean in into some
flesh... is the moment i can pardon myself
with: life... and a scrutiny of relexation...
this impasse of sub-par...
performance will not discourage me...
i'm already planning a second date
of stomach crunches of: suckling up to
a phlegm-and-sick being ushered out
from this same gob...

3 / 4 years of "procrastinating":
from a... vector... akin to hunger...
akin to shelter...
when i need a ****... i need a ****...
sorry me for not hitting the mark
with an ******* and a fully-working
hard-on...

oh but this *****...
   she's right up there in me desire to dream...
since i hardly dream...
i can see her as this antithesis of *******:
although i've limited to looking at stuff
deviating from any possible ***** envy...
all the curves... hell... anything that might be sculptered
by Rodin...

i'll just go to the brothel...
nervous as a lobster... sober, though... and therefore
perform my little litany of:
piston at the ready...
juiced up oyster second best...

oh that "thought": what if i don't...
well then... i won't be... glamour-****-egoism
to mind... further conquests...
i hardly imagine christ on the crucifix
with a hard-on...
so i'll imagine myself being crucified
when attempting to be intimate
with a *******: for the giggles...

i'm not going to drop the pill... i'll continue to rephrase
the sentiment: i was either too drunk
or wasn't in the mood...
or she wasn't on my palette!
but this one... and since she was so engaging...
god... a volume of a woman...
everything requiring a leather analogy...
makes one think about *******
an elephant standing on a ladder...
but not an obese beached-whale type...
just this: completeness of woman...
that most certainly hasn't focused itself
on breeding offspring...

plush... harness proof...
come the barrage of the sea...
or the tide within the confines of a river summary:
this woman...
like she was... almost... edible...
of course she was edible:
but i'm teasing in halves...
she's still a movie creature...

here's be celebrating sobering up...
i'll pretend to ******* six times
on the thighs...
once on the cleavage...
before i take my turn...
on what her sigma will ****-up...

as i will not... listen to men bemoaning their...
adventures in Darwinism...
you can only hear so much of it...
after a while you just...
unconsciously gamble with what's on offer...
fair enough: protecting the younglings
while protecting your whittle harem...
i don't mind women that feel like...
their skin is leather...
and their body posturing is an imploded
armchair...
i also much admire the ancient Roman
liberalism concerning...
fostering...
the ancient Romans... the most noble...
of the highest hierarchical certainty of preservation...
em... they...

fostered offspring?
******* son of a ******* uncle: i'll father you...
said some Augustus...
what's being focused on?
the... ******* IDEA...
i have no concern for biological reality:
i have, concern for... the cognitive disparity that runs
counter to... whatever nature unconscious dictates!

the problem men have with
the promiscuity of women...
me? i just went to the prostitutes...
let's have it done and dusted...
i'm not here to argue...

my god that blush... of this Turkish...
gloat of a wheat loaf... and...
          amylase of the nibbled on *******...
all her sponge of buttocks...
her turn-tilde of hips...
             she's not edible but i... just... want...
to... eat: her!