5 in the den with a TV on ten/
With jock head end up in the motors of chest and--
Chest being motored in a fashion where the flesh/
Becomes cherry coated melons in tex on faint mesh.
Hair strokers and high rollers turn prey to the pet filler/
To a dance of click clacks; in the buff. Just pure sweat pillars.
Subtracting no actions in limbs that brings slight shock spasms/
Turns to a blissful love canals in gloss white in the rib's casam.
Ecstasy underlings to the rhyme scheme bed spring/
The pressing of the pink button on the same thing. Ping Ping.
Silk covered while huffed, puffed and side lay with warm back and/
Unused diesel station Wet Vac but not worried on mathematics.
With a cancerous fog and chuckle reading "Once more? Perhaps"/
To creative formations that trigger other worldly relapse.
It was her 2 swing while he was simple nappy novice/
Who lucked out and would happy and locked with a goddess.
Peers go clear though after gear go turnt to paid pay load/
Stacked numbly on a pyramids formed from obscure shaped pillows.
Ever brittle, they bi-hush and turn close then an eye shut/
Just a smile and a Eksi kiss. Take slumber and don't say much...