a study toward sonnet #830 by FisherKingKQJ
Prim friend, my love and I are dirty dogs,
Who ride rigid mountain bikes on boulders,
We dress in nothing but kelp, sand and togs
So admiring each others sweating shoulders.
Scrawl this down in your voyeur bent folders:
Complemented jockstrap and sportsbra swell,
Mutual grimace of tanned laughline smoulders,
Complimented marine and pheromone smell.
Out of my hair he'll pluck seagrapes or shell,
And kiss hot unique smells between my breasts,
And just behind my ear to waft round a spell,
I'll sniff full his scalp as there his musk nests.
Enormous tyres smooth out a rocky chasm,
Togs as bedding now conflate my orgasm.
(Chorus)
o $10,000 chasm
o $10,000 gap
o $10,000 slash
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]