Alchemisland

Bedsheets twisted like it said left hand red

With my right, eft her bidet-wiped arse red as dead redemption

My middle name is the opposite of abstention

In the roll of Dionysians, my name is mentioned

The sun teaches me this day only

If you want her, tell her hold me

She can only say no

Or Síle na Gig mode

Hand sore like the microphone exploded while I was holding

Bed sores, stoned and bored watching all season four

Not all rose beds and souped-up man sheds

First round I cum faster than a blitzkrieg

Seeds I might need for future family slide belly to knee

Only short shrift to my pistol, kissed a grifter in Gethsemane

Boys will be boys, so we gotta be kept separate

Or I’ll separate his legs and hands from the body

I can be nasty if I hear a word askance, feeling a backward glance testing

My patience, no harmony here I’m not celestial spheres, how many planets

How many pandas will there be if we don’t plan it

Not very many, some things aren’t made to expand

Can’t expound on tonight’s plans, where I got this damage

Where I copped my plants, I’ve got hands in the pockets and tapered black joggers

Noob Saibot seeing backward names, seeing targeted ads in the sidebar

All the thots and thoughts online are bots, one human dotted around the edge of each thread