rubber soul and your stilettos.
Mystery in these wintry sets
a pack of cards, your silhouettes."
Unlost, he cast his mind,
as she evince'd and bespeak'd;
it chided, slapped a wrist,
astute and unwillingly weak.
Something had got to give,
a delicate him wouldn't allow;
inept and wan by all of this,
she stuck upon his eyebrows.
Overused, she mutely reckon'd -
truckloads of horrid caramel,
she unpack'd for a little bit,
a discouraged him did trouble.
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