beholden only unto thee who art thy;the throbbing quark of
sated lust and thusly spent
                                
              and


                           spl
deya-

                   the vassal of my notes and insert your nice pain
like melodically sugary lush ventricles. a cane bent. stocks bearing
the gossamer fruit of your surly vinegar pleats

replete i in sticky coughs of light glowing pertinently of the vehicle
of your hips. in which i ride unruly and cold killing ****** of
thighs all sweated and blithe and lithe. like a slick predator
pounce uneffortful sighs of dainty lace and so pink cotton

           what ami?if not thy's?then:nothing,mymoistsnappingprose