Every Last Drop

God I want him like lighting like eyes rolling I want him bad, bad, honey, like every trashy novel like every blue sky in unsophisticated and illogical ways to roll with him it's prehistoric need, neolithic, and that's even wrong, that's not even true. Oh, baby. Like tingles on the bottom of my feet, like stupid girls in poodle skirts oh honey the way they want the backhand hairy knuckles gonna grow and smack them, gonna grow up, gonna grow up like me. Fuck, I want to dance with you. I want to fuck you, who am I kidding, with all of me, with every inch just eat me, just cut a hole and suck it all out until I'm an empty little box, then fill me up again. I want to be your empty little box, honey, honey, whore. I am yours, your well-scented whore, like something you'd buy in a country with spice in its name, back in triple-digit times. I want to dance for you, baby, writhe, baby, moan. I wish I could say I never wanted to sink my teeth into a pair of undeserving lips this much with a straight face. Can I run my fingers through your hair, darling, can I can I can I before I go just touch you a little bit? Just with shaking fingertips and you would barely  have to feel them. Oh, honey. Oh, you're steaming up behind my ribcage already you're filling me up already from so far away you make my legs feel made-up and my lungs popped.