Under your brim, of biochem. Jungling your gym. Of Nastya. Eating your pasta. But, not a Rasta. Stacking, packing. Your front, sides, up, down, and backing. Never slacking, lacking. Positively smacking. Your hydraulic jacking. Not ticking, but, tacking. Your duck of personality suck. Ever quacking. Beyond earning a buck, for living luck. Because, I give more than a fuck. Pretenders. I'm head of blenders and lenders. So, you're borrowers. Just slaves, to me. Spirit, heart, mind. As I tickle sickle loving give. Your Nastya body. To relationship, live. Treasures beyond measures. Of work and thrill. To your heart, ...