Financially speaking, I am naked alone in bed waiting for my tan to dry.

Unpleasant pillowcases draining my account - Help Me  

Father, I need a hand with my back.

Intrinsically speaking, looked that one up, naturally, the opposite to the person I  

in this moment of uncertainty and smell

which God graced that loathly odor? Someone

did Aphrodite *****. Hera, hear me, I swear to never unbutton your blouse

in summer and I will not zipper your Onzie up  

in winter. Philosophically speaking, my skin will never dry

I will always need help getting unbuttoned,  

zippered, spread like honey, folded, misplaced, understood, and on

to the roof of that brown pump, whose bottle will never finish.  

Mentally, I feel finished in bed, not sensually.

Sexually, I feel itched, at least in the process of, a fox in the snow under branches  

of a tree only twigs they keep falling and scratching;

not hurting nudging the fox to do whatever it is to help the  

tan dry, or in the fox's case, its fur to stay on so he doesn’t bald

right before the winter, it needs its coat even if sometimes it is unnatural

or un-intrinsic (extrinsic).