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Fortunes.
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Linen
Fuck this linen in the middle
Fuck these sheets all in between
I fill in, won't hold too little
Thin the space until we meet
Fingers creep like thumbs can twiddle
Like a twitch moving slow
Situated in this cuddle
Hearts just tick too fast to sleep
A touch too much
He's so close though
Try to prolong, limbs seem so long
Oh so long, me lone, solo
Now a stone's thrown
Light this null space
Let me touch base, let these heat rays
Set ablaze this fireplace
If he move, I move and keep moving
Like it's an invite to, I scoop him in my spoon
Beneath duvet, 'neath doona, never remove me
Leave arms including, leach on, cocooning
Let's hibernate a week
Fuck this linen in the middle
Fuck these sheets all in between
I fill in, won't hold too little
Thin the space until we meet
Fingers creep like thumbs can twiddle
Like a twitch moving slow
Situated in this cuddle
Hearts just tick too fast to sleep
In case life's brief
Fold him briefcase
Hold him neck brace
Turn time my pace
Spread it lengthways
Fuck that clock face
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Make it drop the tock, take seconds half-speed
Let fifteen minutes stretch themselves to thirty
But the double heartthrob, beat speeds burn new degrees
BPS coupling, caressing, cuddling
Bedding rests underneath
Fuck this linen in the middle
Way too much middle, too much middle
Fuck the sheet between
I'll hold you 'til you're three pillows in an upside down capital L
One for the head
Two's to hug
Three for the leg
None for any other men
One for the head
Two's to hug
Three for the leg
None for any other men
One for the head
Two's to hug
Three for the leg
None for any other men
One for the head
Two's to hug
Three for the leg
None for any other men
None for any other men
One for the head
Two's to hug
Three for the leg
None for any other men
One for the head
Two's to hug
Three for the leg
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