tick tock . . .

dang

for the love of puppies and bunnies and all things innocent - can i get a date?

and no, i’m not talkin’ about making it a “blockbuster nite” and i can hardly watch the movie
cuz
a negro is breathing down my neck and trying to screw me on the sofa
and
his clothes smell like reefer and cologne
and
i’m 2 seconds away from saying

um . . .don’t be trying to fall asleep over herre . . .

will you please leave so i can masturbate and sprawl out?

this is so fuckin’ boring type date

nope

i’m talking about scooping me up at around 7-ish
cuz
we have plans for the evening
and
it’s filled with easy conversation and gut busting laughter
and
i aint even thinking about how early i have to go to work tomorrow
or
did i leave a load of laundry in the washer?
cuz
at this point the daily humdrum is irrelevant
and

electric currents are racing through my body
cuz
his eyes are speaking to me in volumes
and
he don’t know that tonite, i may inadvertently decide to deliberately

unladylike

and that’s good news for him us.

so, i’m breaking him off with leather and lace
cuz
he knows what to do wit it.