I drempt that we were on the Strip /
taking a tourist walking trip /
i put my hand under your pants /
and thought “I’ll woo her with romance” /
down your backside went my hand /
and stopped on one half of assland /
you made no move to interrupt /
me or your cheek that I had cupped /
my hand, your ass, were now conjoined /
very close to where you were loined. /
as we walked my hand stayed firm /
against your cheek, i think a germ /
could not have even found the room /
to wriggle from this hand-ass tomb /
so tight against your flesh was my /
hand pressed in joy so near your thigh /
“I could just move around the front /
and be romantic with her cunt” /
was what my silent thoughts were saying /
yet on your ass my hand was staying /
it did not seem to want to move /
though once it brushed your buttcheek groove /
and then returned to buttcheekland /
where your ass magnetized my hand /
to stay there and to move no more /
no further body parts to explore /
and then i woke up with a squirt /
that pierced the floor and kicked up dirt. /
burma shave.
