shivered timbre

that's wak yo, I'm not being a mak yo, but I'll cut you some slak yo,

and milk me a cak-tus,
though it sure doesn't attract us,
this apparatus falls apart like a sick lass,
I hope it doesn't detract from the
kind of attention that the milking brings,
can't count around these absent things.

these things are pretty low key,
on the QT,
seven carat concubines and a parakeet,
wrist twisting thumb-fisting,
obscene kissing lurid scenes
are missing from the big picture
of Marilyn's eyes.

Those brown like sugar, ready to caramelize.