I present to you the slimy greenish discharge of my love:
I would fill a decanter with chunks of ink just for a taste of your sedentary facial hair.
Your leaking thumb sinks the Dead Sea into fits of bulimia.
Tenderness rumbles in your phlegm with every sparkling cough.
Lust for your chest hair compels me to bite the heads off animal cookies.
Your tooth-marks bludgeon my soul.
The sun mourns seagulls the way I drool over your test-tube corpuscles.
My kidneys leap at the sound of your bulging squirrel.
It is with belligerence that I recall being pummeled by your radical oxen.
I am unfettered by the glossy arteries you represent.
Your gargantuan breath is the levanter of my enamel.
Rocks are but sullen, frog-nosed barriers compared to your gurgling undulations.
If God wore cupcakes they would taste like your blood.
Each time I see your cauterized nose my genitals convulse with laughter.
I am spurned by the potent wing of your jargon.
The muffled curve of your left eyebrow is pathologically decadent.
My wanton whiskers seek the comfort of your Technicolor whore.
I would fill a decanter with chunks of ink just for a taste of your sedentary facial hair.
Your leaking thumb sinks the Dead Sea into fits of bulimia.
Tenderness rumbles in your phlegm with every sparkling cough.
Lust for your chest hair compels me to bite the heads off animal cookies.
Your tooth-marks bludgeon my soul.
The sun mourns seagulls the way I drool over your test-tube corpuscles.
My kidneys leap at the sound of your bulging squirrel.
It is with belligerence that I recall being pummeled by your radical oxen.
I am unfettered by the glossy arteries you represent.
Your gargantuan breath is the levanter of my enamel.
Rocks are but sullen, frog-nosed barriers compared to your gurgling undulations.
If God wore cupcakes they would taste like your blood.
Each time I see your cauterized nose my genitals convulse with laughter.
I am spurned by the potent wing of your jargon.
The muffled curve of your left eyebrow is pathologically decadent.
My wanton whiskers seek the comfort of your Technicolor whore.
Reminds me of Mad Libs
ReplyDeleteNew name, same great content. Funny, I was thinking of doing the same myself.
ReplyDeleteLove the new look!
ReplyDeletelove love LOVE!
ReplyDeleteGreat work, thanks for adding some color to my day!!
ReplyDeleteSincerely,
Burban Gardener
http://burbangardener.blogspot.com