Nikkala is held by codes and passwords
In black and white she’s
Our treasure hunt our last words:
She sits beside a fountain of youth;
Prepared to bend and sway the coup,
But she sits with body slim and aching
Past some dew point where her love
Will pass; he does with deep wishes
To caress her breast, lips and navel,
To hold the treasure that we are unable…
Nikkala is held by codes and passwords
In black and white she’s
Our treasure hunt our last words:
She sits beside a fountain of youth;
Prepared to bend and sway the coup,
But she sits with body slim and aching
Past some dew point where her love
Will pass; he does with deep wishes
To caress her breast, lips and navel,
To hold the treasure that we are unable…