I may itch but i’ll never scratch.
As deep as I am in the garden patch,
my hands hovering over the exit hatch,
ready to fall for the perfect match.
I itch and itch for the great attach,
that perfect looking cosmic snatch.
Maybe its you, the gorgeous catch,
the one with nails to lift the hatch.
Scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours,
or leave me be to the world of whores.