Oh
The left hand.
One I use when my strength and trust has retired
Lays upon a lightly laced (cloth)
Disembarc of the covenant.

Lick the place that my hand lays
On.
I
Humanly wrong
Make gong out of the chaotic amount
Noisy bloods hitting the walls on it's way out to the rest of her vessel.

She can make what is mine hers.
She can make the mind like purse.
So she speaks.

My want move the weak hand reach.
So this something can compete with
And maybe even complete sweet.

**** self made namesake peach.
Stir & heat with onions
And wash the perceptive pounds I
POUND
These tons now neat your Golden ratio
To be betrayed and be peated