In honor of this sickly-sweet day, I am writing mock-love-poetry
feel free to tear it to pieces
My lover's hair is as soft as a burlap sack
I stroke his armpit to get its feel
the softly flowing flesh around his middle
drapes lovely awaiting it's next meal
his noble nose hooks down his face
to end, turned up around his lower lip
his eyebrows curl gently, encasing his eyes
which are as endearing as an olive's pip
