So eager
he writes,
in his diffused light,
kissing
your beautiful backside,
splitting your lovely orbs
& you do not fight him.
He hangs onto your pink thong
& the song that he sings
sounds so lovely,
a delicious melody
reverberating
off your white walls.
The mind,
his wanton mind,
is a terrible thing to waste.
Do you read him...kitten?