Tibia and femur
Your moons are rose-scented and poverty-stricken
You mauled her lithe and little body with your plump big body.
And she crushes your mind with her boyish laugh and demanding hands,
that remind you of stories about Moorish Spain read in a carcass-silent library at noon
Her arms are like rope. your hands are like shovels.
Her legs are powerful like 10,000 frogs.
She opens herself scissor-fast and swims around your arms which are anchors.
Mermaids, oh why do they flock to dark and rusty anchors?
And why do they kiss the sunken ships with their velvet mouths?
Your moons are rose-scented and poverty-stricken
You mauled her lithe and little body with your plump big body.
And she crushes your mind with her boyish laugh and demanding hands,
that remind you of stories about Moorish Spain read in a carcass-silent library at noon
Her arms are like rope. your hands are like shovels.
Her legs are powerful like 10,000 frogs.
She opens herself scissor-fast and swims around your arms which are anchors.
Mermaids, oh why do they flock to dark and rusty anchors?
And why do they kiss the sunken ships with their velvet mouths?
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Edited by Eyjafjallajökull at 09:46 CDT, 14 May 2010 - 7062 Hits
go suck a fuck mr gardenchair