Full lips grab attention
the owner really deserves.
A place she'd like to mention
but doesn't have the nerves.
A sushi restaurant in sight,
she sighs in welcome relief
that they actually might
have a talk, though brief.
Raw fish they order while
sweaty palms rub hastily
the tablecloth into a pile
against him looking nastily.
Spill the beans, it's time
to say what we shall after
all mojitos with no lime
we drunk to build a rafter.
Silly enough to believe that
a dish of seaweed and rice
can fix a grown-up brat
who wants a heart to slice.
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