Your niche, my nosh, our gnash
We the bundled knit of knishes
Your clean plate, my dirty dishes
Your pulpit pulping so very delicious

Your mingle, my merge, our brew and jumble
Yolk then Whites and Eggshell's crumble 

Pressing against untamed wild flavorings
Pleasuring to slave-victim new savorings

We drivel together with aching sighs
While tasting our unspoiled sweetish pies
Between our tongues...lips...eyes
Spilling guilty and sloppy lullaby lies