Need be drowsy my tender paramour,
Ill I am without your sweet slow honey.
Carrying me swiftly, pour through my eager fingers,
Oblige and cast your feasting eyes on mine
Leaving only your slowed sweet honey
Avail those appetent nerves and
Save thine yearning desires and pour through my eager fingers.
Inclining, it is for you, my love.
Lifts and erupts my blessed visage,
Only when one thinks of you.
Vile, your poison is non.
Every touch amorous and honey slow, impatient for the smooth texture.
Yet, honey is thine poison, still.
Offer me quietus, than take my saccharine obsession.
Unabashed, I lament for ticking clocks of time lost with my saccharine honey.
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