Ah, love beneath a starlit canopy-
Like a needle bobbing awry
O’er the wobbling lp,
Hurts more than auditory nerve;
I am bionic and love must serve
That wishy washy part of human;
Along came this fine piece of woman
Complete with controls and panels:
Her systems were all on the go,
Every kiss, hot and wet she paid back
Measure for measure;
But when we lay skin to skin
Her kevlar skin in particular
Did something glandular:
Love was in the touch and smell
But beyond any programme
Or back-up which made one bionic;
Love is it? I aint daffy or a cynic
To spell out what comes natural.
benny
12-26-06
