Convent Garden Nun
By Jennifer R. Oliver
Gulfport MS
As I watch him swim through the
chains
of waves that leave me breathless and
drenched,
my shivered-closed thighs, from the
cold
fixation of that no-return love,
won’t let me stroke over to him to
confess
my fascination with his lascivious
randy.
You see, the problem lies here
within my vile covetousness,
which is content on holding me
hostage
with the delightfulness of the
licking and loving
of the man I have christened
“Slicker-Lick.”
But my alter lover I have trained
to stay away from the
Man-of-the-Snatches.
As I have seen him mingle with many a
minx,
I would rather not have his demonseed
let my honey-cup-clitty
become a rantipole-laced-mutton.
Therefore, I will be playing
solitaire tonight.