i luv my stretchmarks /
nature has made her tattoos /
what a work of art.


My stretchmarks are x-mark-the-spots - marking exactly where you should kiss me.

Must.

It ain't a myth - it's a fact. Not a request - it's an order - Sir - ordained - by she-angels with cherried tongues - who are watching you if you make the wrong move - on my oh-so-deliberately-gratuitously-plumpified body.

So. Be careful how you kiss me, Sugar.
Or where the hell you kiss me, Sugar.
Or else I won't even call you Sugar.
I'll just call you Salt instead.     Sugar.