XXX
Des yeulx, ausquelz s'enniche le Soleil,
Quand sus le soir du jour il se depart,
Delasché fut le doulx traict nompareil
me penetrant jusques en celle part,
me penetrant jusques en celle part,
Ou l'Ame attaincte or'a deux il mespart
Laissant le coeur le moins interessé,
Et toutesfois tellement oppressé,
Que du remede il ne s'ose enquerir.
Ca, se sentant quasi Serpent blessé,
rien ne le peult, non Dorion, guerir
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Ca, se sentant quasi Serpent blessé,
rien ne le peult, non Dorion, guerir
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Your Wordly Eyes that in oppression sink down deep
beneath the yellowish filth adorning the pack of the heap
you dropped on the kitchen floor last night while groping
to get open the invitingly open back door,- what ever for? or
was it simply the odor again that bumbed & burst its pussy head
on the hand of the handle, guided by the horny sweatness
on the hand of the handle, guided by the horny sweatness
of your snotty sung - its desire of novel fluctiFace™, its tender
belching longing for no longer needing your carcas - thus as
belching longing for no longer needing your carcas - thus as
they sink one might think well now finally good riddance.
Alas where you end the World commences Her Stance.
Alas where you end the World commences Her Stance.
with a forward to
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