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Ink a new line that drips upon a page; Poetry plays a point that letters spell. When feet are running meter's rhyme and rage, The poet writes of love that's worth the tell. A statement made of stanzas rings a bell In ears that crave the rhythm of a verse Rehears'd in dulcet tones that maybe yell At times when feeling love is but a curse. Volta Velveeta cheese an early hearse And bathroom book of verses by anon. Musical fruits smell better smelling worse; If music be the food of loveplay on. Flowersweet love songs ring with singing turds; Poesy pussy-footing plays with words.
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Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 9:43 PM UTC
Loveplay
Ink a new line that drips upon a page; Poetry plays a point that letters spell. When feet are running meter's rhyme and rage, The poet writes of love that's worth the tell. A statement made of stanzas rings a bell In ears that crave the rhythm of a verse Rehears'd in dulcet tones that maybe yell At times when feeling love is but a curse. Volta Velveeta cheese an early hearse And bathroom book of verses by anon. Musical fruits smell better smelling worse; If music be the food of loveplay on. Flowersweet love songs ring with singing turds; Poesy pussy-footing plays with words.
MetaVerse
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Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 9:43 PM UTC
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