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Roll me over in the clover,
clasp my legs behind your back,
pump me into oblivion,
and never give slack.

Roll me over in the clover,
grip my bosom with great heed,
squeeze my tipplers with pinches,
my flesh is plainly in need.

Roll me over in the clover,
kiss my mouth with your tongue,
dart in and out, and circle about,
until my senses are entirely spun.

COPYRIGHT © Patricia K McCarthy