Knocked from a spot on top.
But not knocked up!
Or out of the loop.
I have my genes to thank for that.
Otherwise,
It would be obvious...
I was such a whore of words.
And happy not to be impregnated,
By every impression that came to lay...
Just for a 'quickie' to then leave!
To have me left desiring,
The same thing repeated...
Over and over again!
And I can't be loyal to just one expression.
Or addicted to the fit of it.
Variety is the spice of life.
And I like to switch it up!
And 'hopefully' will continue to practice,
Safe and satisfying mental deliveries.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem