is really too deep to mention here.
It lives in a decently dog-dug hole
by the base of the tree that roots in fear!
As all trees do, if you dig such things.
The subconscious is secretly full of fears.
You must try to make friends with it, somehow
- or, "More than friends," if consent is clear.
So of course I am overcompensating.
I become all bluster and brash boast brag
of the thrashings I hand out, dull routine -
The subconscious is secretly full of fears.
You must try to make friends with it, somehow
- or, "More than friends," if consent is clear.
So of course I am overcompensating.
I become all bluster and brash boast brag
of the thrashings I hand out, dull routine -
a blasé trick to pull, you slag! But the truth is
I'm petrified to touch that thing; its specific,
sheer relative size makes me wonder where
my sportscar is - and dread the color
it will be when it arrives.
Just kidding.
I made all that up, just now.
My made-up mind is full
of such wank and crank
and chaff and guff
I'm petrified to touch that thing; its specific,
sheer relative size makes me wonder where
my sportscar is - and dread the color
it will be when it arrives.
Just kidding.
I made all that up, just now.
My made-up mind is full
of such wank and crank
and chaff and guff
and I fear
that I really have you to thank.
Which I shall
forbear to do, my dear.
Rude gratitude, best left unsaid.
In my favorite sexual fantasy,
I am thanking you
'til your cheeks glow red
that I really have you to thank.
Which I shall
forbear to do, my dear.
Rude gratitude, best left unsaid.
In my favorite sexual fantasy,
I am thanking you
'til your cheeks glow red
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