What’s it like to be admired? Body polished, fit, and wired. How does his touch feel on your skin not on mine. Is it delicate, cold, out of ten is it a nine? Where do I fall in his mind, thoughts distant, non-existent, hard to withstand. Does my visual cause glitches in your routine? Cast a spell on your manhood, hard to handle it’s Palestine. Is it true you might feign for me? How does your body fit with mine, ideal so epic that it may cross a line? Is it possible you and me, can I lay and fall to my dismay at your side eyes attentive, opened wide, is this real?
Where does my physical stand with you is it minimal or can I embrace for ever? Breath deep like I never, stand naked baring gold slightly, tarnished by other by it’s yours, do you want it? Is this too bold, will my light-almond focus be enough to invoke a caress far from friendly, for my pleasure mainly, do I stand a chance? Be front seat not side hit, will you play me off and prefer smooth nectar and tall, cut life lines before they crawl?