a study toward sonnet #1,396 by FisherKingKQJ
(llxxxxiii)
So few things which I like more than to flirt,
I'll make a man bring me flowers, shout a drink,
Or sponsor stockings, traded touch of skirt
Or single peck on cheek, or chum arm link.
Then, as I budge a button on his shirt,
Then, as he's full of ego, built to brink
Of wild condescension, knowing what he'll blurt,
I draw aside, I sneer, what does he think?
Their girls would diss me adopted bastard,
I hoarded ogles of my hour glass nooks,
Inherited yet freakishly good looks,
Swiped one by one each two faced dastard.
I'll look back over my shoulder, lour
Round lecher booty checks, which empower.
(Chorus)
o $10,000,000 lour
o $10,000,000 frown
o $10,000,000 scowl
[Autocube3 - for 3d interactive movies.]
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