She only calls me when she's ovulating.
She isn't keen when it comes to dating.

Sometimes I let time slip while I'm contemplating.
And I choose the loving over the hating 

I sent her a late text.
I hope she still hasn't moved on to the next
Then it's straight to her apartment, with no latex.

It doesn't matter; I remain the favourite ex 
She said she liked my lips.
The way my torso around hers grips.
I bite my tongue, then sway her hips.

I know all the scripts so I need no tips.
Her thighs could save lives with all that grip.

Smooth skin but not gentle; it's teeth 
I try to sigh, but she won't let me breathe.

Suffocating me with her might all...