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You’re as sexy as a fish in an upmarket, glitzy,

café,

fraternizing with the rich and famous,

turning over on a spit;

topped with lovely mash and packed with extra veg –

baby, you’re disgusting.

You’re a bird-eater, that’s what you are.

A Venus’ flower basket sponge.

A screwy kangaroo.

You’re as brutal as a rabbit, in the breeding season

of rabbits,

or the first orgasm at dawn.

eF

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