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oh siren! the memory of your texture
oh the yearning this within me stirs
thy sweet taste, thy silken touch
the thought without having is too much!

In a lush field of strawberries,
silkily yeast bubbles in crevices cries.
among waves of autumn raspberries,
upon thy lips of sheer elegant sighs.

eyes of cinnamon in color,
on French white pearl,
flutter open on sweet splendor,
on rivulets of seductive furls.

oh thou art extravagant paradise,
in wild flowers, a place of bliss,
blowing sweet succulent entice,
from lips of silk wines cinnamon kiss.

Then whistles soft whirlwinds of dreams,
colored blueberry shrills upon mild streams,
quaint cottages of fresh licked whip cream,
where sated… I hear myself scream…
Mon Deu! I love French toast!
… tho art supreme!

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