a poem for today, 21 August 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of eight sentences and its image]
So the story is that god put a man's g-spot up his butt but intended nothing else to ever be put there.
The more use it gets while you collect the data you need to run your crack, the better your chances of success.
The instructions on the left are the same as always, and describe exactly what you do with your hands.
It's about getting out of your head.
She rubs her pussy in a quest for orgasm.
The witness stand is a lonely place to lie.
I'd call that an eventual win, if it happens.
Every crack speaks volumes.