So, here's my crack at writing something vaguely humourous.
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My sweet, he whispered in my ear
Fingers on my temples bare
Good enough to eat, he’ll leer
And run his hands throughout my hair.
Your skin as soft as virgin snow;
Eyes salty drops of dew.
Lips as lush as sugar knows;
Your face, like cream, so new.
Sit near, my pea, he chortles now
Glancing up and down.
His parted mouth across my brow
Folds slowly to a frown.
Is that the oven timer, dearest, precious piece of meat?
Why so it is, my lovely girl. You’ll be ready soon to eat.
