Exiled into Fantasy

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I sat and played solitaire thinking I was woke

listening to Burt Baccarat

my fingers fell like a swallow thru the plat of this sensuous furlough

a wondrous aura I felt from my past

at once exiled into fantasies of this lilac

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and lavender poem  as type quote

 fingers so ever gently and slow to

and fro soothing  her cornrows

a crazed

snapchat twitch stream an archipelago

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amazingly

Stan always wore Lee's

da da dreaming

Stan was your Only Fans page quote

Eros told me you were Uber and Para social  

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no dinero type Pookie & Ray Ray broke

I just mean

I'm exiled into fantasy

plus a lotta POX

It depends on what happens

if the pot stinks ....hold your nose

you might smell whales

and get happy feet's toes

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