Your favourite elf with the ice-cream spot on silky laced pants
You make a sail of pale yellow sheets
Sweat of admire and the eclipse
You still not sure who you tackle up
Your fingers are running down the belly
In the darkness you will wake her
To tell that you know
Her roots and her nipples
Then she’ll weep and you feed her ice-cream
Don’t you love her?
You won’t tell her
For your spouse is saint
And this dirty kid aint
You can kiss her while church’s bells`re ringing
You may buy her your useless presents
Read her books and make a bath for both
She’ll keep your secrets sealed
You will plait white ribbons into her hair
You so tender and you shiver
To tell her kissing:
You are my favourite boy
Your favourite elf with the ice-cream spot...
© Copyright: Наталия Сайконен, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108110802063
Свидетельство о публикации №108110802063
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