Nolan's Muse (Warning: Extremely racy contents) Salient object of her affection, Nolan was his name. The archer Of her labium who would visit her occasionally at Long-Lasting Race, a solitary street, on Fields many summers Ago. She remembers the ridiculous Negligee she had on one morning, to arouse His senses. The oven was fiery hot Waiting to toast him slightly brown, News flash in the Washington Post, He was leaving Kentlands Blvd, where it All started, to Mozambique. As time goes by, she still does visit the Kentlands, Hoping she’d catch a glimpse of him To tell him how terribly, she’s missed His fully loaded bout of mucus, sprawling on her tongue. So maniacal and homicidal, she should have worn a trench coat, Instead of that ridiculous negligee had she Known it was going to pour heavily, Drenching her in carnal bliss.