You May Drip On Me - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
I ask you what's a man to do,
myself, I wouldn't have a clue.
She looks exactly like Godiva
and teases me with her saliva.
Mind you, no person should be hung
for using, lavishly her tongue
or his. In fact once they're entangled
they do get soaked, at first though, spangled.
I think that spit has pheromones
which resonate mysterious tones.
Like crystals flaunting fragile beauty
her glands perform a double duty.
Now let me tell you one more fact,
this lady has been labelled 'stacked'!
And any male whose blood is red
and, as a baby, who was fed
from overflowing lactic glands
will reminisce, you understand,
in his desire to go back
and give each side a proper smack.
Hear ye, I say she won't allow
diversions, saying 'kiss me now! ',
and as for me, the love-struck fool
I do consent, and soon we drool.
And come to think, we plumb forgot
that kissing deeply makes you hot.
In our case, this did not work.
For one, I was a real jerk,
I let her be the great dictator
instead of playing fornicator.
No children ever graced our table
although the marriage remained stable.
Until last year, when I was keen
and used a drug called atropine.
It did confuse her salivation
and brought to life a new sensation.
Next day she took my hand and led
me to the big communal bed.
We did what we had sorely missed
and afterwards we REALLY kissed.
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