I encomb my inner toe forwith I could not walk
I am bound within a foot of your description
A balance is required to toiter at the edge of my discrepency
And yours if you so wish it be
This is not heaven or a womb
Succold your cunt to your eternal doom
As I travass
I love to wonder where you really are
But it is of your cloth or your image and how you can afford your car
It is but your demon for he is but nought you are
And I step with caution for I am aware of which I must beware
My mother told me not to accept vaginas as god
Litle could she know she was wrong.