Early morning

I am toasted bread and you are my honey syrup

Mornings are like brewed coffee sweetened by a taste of your lips

I sold off my treadmill for the lowest price I could get

Cos every time I see you my heart keeps running for you

They say a beautiful lady is an accident of nature and

A beautiful old lady is a work of art (*Louis Nizer)

You are my Shakespearean tragedy

For you shall never witness the misery of a man you have inspired to ever desire


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