In your back
I guess Shipwrecks
I let myself drifting on pepper-sea

In your back

I widen unstable sands
I dig shafts bottomless
and many gaping holes

In your back

Val-rock-climber of your spinal column
I slip and zwiiiip on my soft soap

In your back
I plant my hooks
I crunch you ogle and ogre
moron and gigolo

But my arrows get blunt
and my claws are too soft
So I take on my peroxide fevers
And my bump’s speleo
just bring me back golden nuggets

However they will melt
under our live embers tongues
just at this time
when your chest will
touch my belly

In your back
I never leave too far
I prefer to lodge
my breasts in.