Baby; seeing you make me ponder,
Each time your hip sweeps, my eye lid wonder.
The water melons on your chest are indeed a figure to behold,
I wish to have a taste of them the way I won't be told.
Let me figure your figure,
Let my spine dine and wine with you like a vine.
Let my thought calabash in your small pot,
Let my rod break the bridge that enclose your pleasurable ban;
So we can both bang and bank in sweet sensational sound system.
Precious; anytime you pout your lip,
It made my sense of humour high.
Your dazzling beauty is swizzling,
I can't wait to bask in your thighs of hyper boil.
To conjugate a relationship in your butt with symphony.
Precious; let me welcome you to my abode,
So you can be happy as you behold.
I've not come to make you feel loved,
I've come to make you feel at home.
So you can let me figure your figure.
Let me play a romantic sound of ocarina with my fingers on your skin;
So you can moan and never again mourn,
As my veins dramatize sensible touch in your spiritus.
©Sunsampaul Egwu Philosopher
Sunsampaul4globe@gmail.com
+2348180861170
01:07:16
11:32pm
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