Everything was in Harmony. I was complete. Then descended the Fire, consuming My round balanced table. But It released the fount Of untold blessings, The
Swallow me like a Popsicle on the hottest Night of the summer.
Her favorite is when I fill her throat completely, Control her breathing.
Of all the places I’ve spilled my seed, I love Your picnic basket.
That bastard swagger Brings her to her knees, just like Every other time.
Clasp your palm against My quivering lips so no One hears my moaning.