Verification

You
Fuck
Me
Up
And you know it...
And all I can do
Is listen to songs
That describe all the things I want to do
Dream and scribe the un-lived to be true
But it's
Not
Just
Me---
You tell her it's hers...
But in my top drawer along with your panties
Is where you left the receipt
To the pussy that
Belongs
To
Me---
You know I own it
Work it over
And nurture it.
Denial would simply be a waste of the time
That needs to be used
Remodeling your womb
From the inside out
Walls that need painting
Ceilings that can't be missed
Higher rooms
Just to accommodate the length and girth being dealt with
Although regardless
You'll always feel me in rooms I shouldn't be in
Small ponds
From small rivers
Leave trails
Of where to go
The next time something needs to be fixed---
I don't need you to tell me
It's
My
Pussy
The fact that my fingers fit you like a monogrammed glove
Tells me that it is
Brooklyn is embedded all in that shit
I know your spots
Then again...
I've shown them to you
Some of the old
All of the new
Deep
Slow
Hard
Let me play my congas in your jungle
Let me give you a reason to scale the walls
You know I can
You know damn well
But you'd rather not give in to your body's demands
And that's fine.
I can't lie...
You
Fuck
Me
Up...
And while you're trying not to let my name slip from your lips
As she struggles to swim in the river between your hips...
Thoughts of me
Deep
Slow
Hard
Rhythmically steady
Will be all you focus on...
And when you shiver
Glistening from throwing back what you've been blessed with from birth
She'll think she did it
As the craving for me to be inside of you gets worse and worse
You'll scratch my initials into your bed sheets
And when she's done splashing in foreign waters
You'll call me
For your post orgasm kiss...
So don't tell me
I don't
Have you
Fucked up
In the least bit.
I've already got verification.