(no subject)

A Cheery little poem from a sick lady.
Going to bed once I finish my ginger ale.



Ten cloudberries, forgotten in a bowl.
Nine clothing items in a messy roll.
Eight paces from the cockpit, where Chewbacca works.
Seven days from Slivnamon where the danger lurks.
Six kinky sex toys, used and cast aside.
Five factors past big L, where the Falcon glides.
Four fluffy pillows, thrown upon the floor
Three empty lube tubes, tossed out of the door
Two handsome lovers, with orgasmic screams.
One sleeping Jedi
Very sated Jedi
Lovely naked Jedi, dreaming smuggler dreams.

swiped from berserkir

( too much about Angel )

Icon therapy, just to make me feel better

The last one is my own.