All I Want Is to Eat in Bed

Truffle butter, Chef. Your freshest.
I’ve recently simplified my goal:
a full-time gig, a dance of your choice.
If you don’t want a label, you could

check every box, take out your trash,
get German authorities to pronounce
the Zodiac signs. Delightful. Worthy.
Adored in bed. Lying next to you,

I know what you’re thinking: I’ll be
starting my life over in Rome,a simple
fiery season. I have to be vulnerable,
a surprise bouquet of your voice.

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