Sweet wrinkles and Ginger. She points and beckons you for attention You give her devotion, tapping in to the lustful ocean. Her toes bathed in spit are bare in front of you. They wiggle and flex, spinning their spell, sowing the hex. A dream real, no future no past. Mouthful of toes, heaven at last. Wrinkled arches, inches away, this turned out to be a very good day