I cognize the sanctioned conation
mixed with a shred of connotation.

But when you submit
and retro the tip
you have me under a spell
and the body screams to jell
off with the clothes I strip
so that you and I can transmit

a special little something until...

alas,

the tides, they have changed
and the giggles deranged;
I no longer succumb to the sword
your titillations make me bored...

as such

life as I knew it has become humdrum
I have stumbled upon a conundrum
I mindlessly canter
and reason with my banter;

but there is no forgetting
the quiet sweaty petting
the cosmic sexual innuendos
and outlandish talk of dildos
your smirk and writhe
make it all worthwhile...

so I have to admit I like your style
you always leave me with a smile.

Sounds like a piss poor rap to me?

Where de poetry?