Mad Lib

night time, you are my table.
to what i'm not yet sure.
this round ball, this slippery
blue of pen -- hard to hump.

your eye against my clitoris,
such bent long scatty curves which
draw me closer. pull me in with
your magnetism, your high tiding moon arms.
such high dildos, but temporary --
how i've come to hide the soft gorgeous horse.

night time, my fire cracker don't fly me
with driving, this glorious vibrator eating you away
leaves me purring for you
in darkness. the enormous purple condom
crushed against my ankle. 1