You Just Want To Touch My Plastic
You just want to touch my plastic.
by Lawrence S. Pertillar
And qualify yourself,
As someone entwined...
In a relationship with me,
Of some kind.
One that defines you,
Approved to exhaust me of funds.
With an accepted aggrevation made,
To deplete me quick.
Applying a 'get-it-and-run' trick trip!
I'm not the one.
I am not having it.
That has happened before.
And I didn't get addicted.
That's all you want to do!
Just want to touch my plastic.
To wine and dine,
But let me say this...
You're not about to touch nothing of mine.
Until you've made a deposit.
One that suits me quite fine.
A massaging you can start.
And I'll decide,
If you become added to my membership list!
'Member what? ?
That's a bunch of ssshhh...'
Take your time and don't be quick.
Or fidget impatiently with crossed legs fixed.
As if to slow this process,
To inflict a punishment.
While I witness you paint your finger nails.
After you blow dry your acrylic toes.
Followed by a pouting of your ruby red lips.
You just want to put your hands on my plastic.
And other things God only knows!
With a proposal made that leaves me broke,
And left cold.
I'm not fooled by a smoozing,
You wish easily sold.
'Why can't your believe and accept I love you? '
I believe you want to do me with a paid for screwing.
That's what I believe.
And that's what you are doing!