You offering me these fries is an indication.
Look at you,
Flushed with sun. Sweat trailing from your twinkling eyes, down to your crevasses best served as a feast
Magnetizing me on the carousal, executing it like a bawse
...
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Such a nice poem, Her Pot. Read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.
Poetic piece...writing skills, interesting!