something about women

SOMETHING ABOUT THE WOMEN

Relationships and the ladies

Mostly something to do if you’re a woman

Raymond j Burt

Did you said something too do with females?

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PART ONE: WOMEN

ONE: REMEMBERING

I am remembering the women I had and the times we met and the truth and the truce. Many of these people I met as friends but I remember the lovers and the colloquial times and the essence of many of you. I remember the babies.

These are the times I met Margo and we had many lovers’ moments. Of these lovers and the men I believe many weren’t too bad. I lay the blame squarely at the feet of the man. Many excuses are plausible and the blame wasn’t mine. I recall defeat and the lovelies. Many were grown and the Margos and the Romans showed the series of the many relationships. These were the lovers and not only the friends. Many times I spent with the lovely Margo and in these many times we were best mates and we walked into the city just to share a loving embrace. Much of the time we walked and spoke and enjoyed the chat in Chinatown. Many of these times we had, and the mother said, She’s only seventeen!

What the hell? I was eighteen years old myself. We heard a lot about rapists and the mum was afraid of the charges she might face for doing nothing.

We’re in love, we said, and many of her times and mine were crowded and the time for her was seeing if we’re together. Later she found the cousin and the lipstick and the eye shadow and the bright bronze hair and the many eyelashes. She was cute and the mum was strict and the blame for it is all on the eyelashes and the father figure. Much of the time was spent for her and the de facto and the bright look often left them heirless.

Many of you and will remember the hairline geyser and many will recall the yay and the seeds in the ladies. Many lay within and the prodigal son knew unconditional love. Many cry and seize the opportune love and affection. Others cry and utter the lowest of accusations. Some run for the husband and some cannot leak.

Why are you so evil? they ask, and Why do you commit adultery?

How often do you sleep with the enemy? They say, You commit evils, and the acts and the weeping and the solace are from the grave acts. Why are you so sick? You strip naked and expect the men to leave you to be. You make love and she’s out for the sex and says, Give it to me baby.

These police look at you and the creation and the many babies, and next thing you know, you’re up on the rape charges. These women ask you if you wish to make love sometimes. I felt like it and when you went for me, how often have you veritably gone inside? And didn’t you know I had the baby and you’re out for me? You choose between the tiger and the ladies, you say yes and no, you’re my boyfriend the moment I met you. You feel loved and you have the precedence and the many offers and the boy looks to you. She’s out to get you, she feels left and has the baby and often you’re gone. She has the lovers and the ketch and she’s left behind. She’s the bastard and the boy ought to be with the girl and the baby isn’t in your son and the little girl has left you. Many laugh and you are left for the angry parents. She’s caused the scandal and often the time out of work and home. Didn’t you know we found the girl children and didn’t you feel we’d made the lovers and the time for me? I felt good and now I had the lump and often you said you loved me. I felt you inside of me, you’re hard and oh baby I don’t know how hot it was.

You lusted after me and the feelings often were hers and to her benefit or yours and didn’t you feel accomplished! I feel dead inside. You’re finished and both feel sad. The longing and the lovers and the grasp and the feelings mean often you’re out to get him.

These women love it, these said to their mates. I had a massive orgy and you said it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t believe you didn’t care girl. I loved it.

She had the beatings and the hold on you. You got me in trouble baby, and I didn’t mean to rape me, sweetheart. She is the broker for the body and the sexual gratuities. Often you’re into me and many often enjoy the sex and the powwows. Often I can’t understand.

You’re doing it hard, and I’m through is what is said. Then comes the comment that You’re sick and you’re broker for my body and you’re doing it too hard.

So, do you feel it’s her or you? Often by the time it’s over for her, I feel it’s over for me as well. She’s in bed with the other men and the lovers in her mind? I feel you’re over I can’t help it if you are going to bed with her. I don’t deliver and at the same time these women ask and tell me it’s the time for us. I don’t argue and the woman asks if it’s the fever for us. Didn’t you tell me and these other girls? She says I asked you if you’re after her, and I discover I and the male and the fortune are all in her thing. You’re into us and the psyche and the blatant fools and the bread and she’s got you and I loved you… Well, it’s over buddy and I feel you’re in trouble, indelibly broken. She’s woken up half to beat your eggs, make your coffee in the frenzy. Often she’d look to your broken heart, debts and the feelings deterred and then cry for a little less sex, say she’s fructose intolerant and tore my clothes.

She beat me and whipped me and cried and rung back and sayeth back to me, I’m sorry. Lovers said, Do you love me still? In any case, you deal with me. I don’t let you go, these exes, and the many wooed me. They strike while I’m within their grasp, and she asks to say, You’re mine , and like it nor lump it we’re to be married.