here, taste this

 
this isn’t the poem you were
looking for.

this poem is ill-kept,
ill-mannered, temperamental at best.
this poem hasn’t eaten for days!

that glint in the eye shouldn’t be
mistaken for affectionate wisdom
except as it applies to a dinner plate.

are you someone good to eat?

some truth is best understood from
a distance generously paced away.

don’t tempt with rosebud fingertips
giggling through a wire fence.

sampling is mandatory here.

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