In the Pickup Line at the Deli

Your eyes are like onions,
translucent and glazed;
Your brows are like yeast,
perpetually raised;
Your nostrils are rings
each surrounding a hole;
Inside which I eye a path
straight to your soul;
Your lips are so crusty
and crumby and cracked,
I just want to eat you;
How’m I supposed to react?





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andy

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24

06 2009

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