Me she butters right up, utters 'bite up', but how quickly her fancy fades!
Is her love just a bit of hot air?
Her hearty curves seemed like they could nourish any man, but now it seems I am deserted for breakfast.
Honey you syruped my love,
and deflated our dreams in a min- (and sugar)
-utter again those words, and I will know not to trust, you crustfallen baby...
Or, at least, to eat more quickly.
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