Vanilla is the flavour he favours
Variety has too much spice
Blinkered in his outlook
Naughty can never be nice
Always stuck in position
Foreplay isn’t his game
A stickler for bedroom monotony
The story is always the same
The lights are off
So they fumble in the dark
His finger’s on the trigger
But he can’t fire a spark
Repressed
He never wants to try
His hang ups
Left her dry
With a passion statuesque
Push becomes shove
Sex is a dirty word
Only god is love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem