Sexual arousal and poetry

Grease


Grease steals in like a lover
over the body of my oven.
Grease kisses the knobs
of my stove.
Grease plays with the small
hands of my spoons.
Grease caresses the skin
of my table-cloth,
getting into every crease.
Grease reassures me that life
is naturally sticky.

Grease is obviously having an affair with me.

Is this bacon grease? If it is, that's hot. :kiss:
 
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