The Voyeur, this wonderful poet from distant Southern California who writes me verses, wrote me again. Some questions this time.
Sweet Doris.. you are easy to write for.. you inspire me.
Maybe I should call you “Doctor-Doris”.. can you give me some medical advice? Every time I look at you, my man-thing gets so biggg… I cannot undo my pants to release it from captivity. I can feel the blood coursing through it, pushing it against my zipper, jamming my crotch. Mmm…
Love you… The Voyeur
PS: And kisses for the inside of your sculpted loins.
Was that a rhetoric question, with the medical advice? Most likely yes. Can I leave it without an answer? Don’t think so. Therefore,
My Dear Poetic Voyeur!
When I was in high school we had a teacher of linguistics. He once came to me and asked to show him my open palm. Stupid as I was at that age, I thought that he may be a palmistry freak… Curious to hear about my future, I hastily offered the palm for an analysis. Holding my hand with his fingers, he looked at it attentively and said “Everything that you’re gonna touch with this palm will turn hard.” Then he smiled, thanked and walked away, heading for the teacher’s lounge. The boys around me laughed like mad. I was surprised. Didn’t know what was going on!
Now I know.
Love to you, my Dear Voyeur! Thanks for your stories, verses and medical questions.