Wilds are the words of meet,
all but said in escape,
the 'No's' of Feat ignored the Keep,
a vibe kept close for in the most,
a practice of the Ordered dove,
took flight in single tight.
Sensual deductions to erotic eruptions,
their copy cat mentality arrives so late mortality,
could never hold the hand of fate,
as destined spake unwinds to dates,
so pleasure will know itself,
in days to months years of pumped,
the empty to the fullest rump.
No push to Pole he is over stole,
the bitter truth he tried.
Know dry eyes for soul is tied,
to Mother not to Horror.
The heart I had that gave a fad,
for first time known,
emotional tone,
the sound of the Mono-bone.
Hardened sense the leg must whence,
for many Men do ride this tense,
the fodder that is no repents,
eats the loins of reckon pence,
a dollar deeded seat.
Saddled to the Art of Origin,
B.D.S.M. has the Door,
cross to threshold,
nails to whip,
ropes to chains,
wood to boards,
the growth is much the same.
Lastly it is the girl in me,
the one whom did stop Five at lead,
the age that I became a read,
to every aughted liberty,
the blind fold says it so.
Bring the piling to harvest the spoke,
than commonality will know it's lope,
and Race I do do Well.
At gift of speed in speak of read,
the worth begets the whoa.
The tip to chesting a bind to sexing,
the blow of jobs to only knob,
the satisfaction left to stream,
with each involved the liquid laws,
of energy I see.
Draining to your knees from spilt,
yet never know release,
the bitter chapter of horrid laughter,
behind the back of whom exact,
would never leave the beveled skill,
to Moon the Scape of sat.
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