I asked her to blow the dust of my bean bags, 
she looked at me like I was asking of something ungiven.

But she cleansed them within a volume of gargled verse,
vacuuming the soiled reminisce of who's last tongue 
had woven there words of lust upon them.

*"You dumped me, we were on a break,*

But teeth are sharper than a particular female anatomy.

Saying a few syllables in gargled verse,

*"This is my **** gun,  "And your fired,*

**"We were on a BREAK,**

I had so many stitches that my ***** looked Frankenstein's 
face, never **** off a woman when she has your bean bags
in her mouth, tears of crimson fell as I fainted.