- Erotic Poetry
- Shake My Spear
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Shall I ensnare thee for pre-slumber’s lay?
Thou look most comely but distemperate:
A rough ride to save a dogged summer's day,
(and with master’s leash far too short on hate.)
When the eye of thy twat to heavens shine,
and when that wet confection be primm’d;
Yes, ass in air she's mounted – Most sublime!
‘Tis nature’s age or grooming choice? Untrimm’d!
Her internal spring once popped, will fade.
My possession, that cherry thou once ow’st;
(cunt breath wonderlust the proof she's been made.)
Dost hope internal squirt nine moons won't grow’st.
So long, bug off, with a snatch that still bleeds,
So long, fug off, start no life with my seeds!
FOR REFERENCE: The original Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare
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