i meant to pick you up at the cafe, like you had asked
but here i am on the couch, drunk on your essence
your frustration isn't a manipulated reward to me
i get excited when you are
you remind me of a government mandated wet dream
suspiciously obvious in your beauty
profane in your innocence
but it's like they say
not all Slovenes bear facial hair
and if there were an objective truth to any of this it would be a video game
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