Dear Sweet Tits,
I forgot your name, but that’s alright I already got a nickname for you—it’s Sweet Tits. Anyway I wrote you a poem.
Chemistry.
Sexual tension.
Infatuation sparks the light.
Dynamos of cum covered socks,
And fungal feet too enflamed
To bare the stride of love’s gallant gait.
Dynamos, tempted by the tepid
nature of man, to wait at least three
dates before making “the move.”
Dynamos of cautious lies,
Tight lipped and soaked in lust,
Longing for that holy thrust.
Dynamos conceal the soul,
Like a chimney filled with smoke,
Without the hole that holds the hope.
And so for the sake of romance
Let us uncover every inch,
A handy or some sucky, sucky|
Will surely do in a pinch.
And then, baby, we may begin
A long lasting love with trust therein.
Sincerely,
Vincent from 207
P.S. I’ve noticed that Peter’s been hanging around outside your door. Guy’s a freak. If you need him taken care of, you just let me know.
-EJS, Staff-Member