Erotic PoetryBiscotto Di AmoreGather round its time to compete
The biscotto di amore is down at our feet
We don't care what the peeping toms will be saying
When the windows steam up, and we all begin spraying
Some try to hit first so they don't have to do the eating
But winning aint my goal, my thrills competing
The guys all look and smile, as I never win
But little do they know, I held mine in
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