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Click hereShe had them at "Hello", when on the phone,
With one hand on her cell, as her blue jeans
Go sliding down her thighs. She causes moans
A million light years distant (so it seems):
She won't believe in aliens who'd love
To slip their tentacles in her soft hand;
As she lies on her bed, they're up above,
Plotting where luminescent limbs might land;
Their third eyes always quiver as she plays,
The other nine, on stalks, see her carouse;
These aliens forget all their death rays,
When looking down and seeing her sans blouse;
Could green-hued suckers stick so to those boobs,
That are so pink and perky, when she strips
Her bra right off? Well, it's enough to move
Them from far galaxies (in fleets of ships);
And these fly faster, with the soothing sound
of girls who sigh, when getting extra pleasure;
Extra terrestrials will slither round
On gluey seats, while she comes at her leisure;
Yet, she won't countenance that they exist;
And she's assured in this - a firm belief;
I wonder if she would be rather pissed
To know she now gives voyagers relief?
Love, love, love the subject. Cadence seemed a little off. Great rhyme choices. 5ed