Poem

Poetic Food


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My life revolves around me in images of myself; my mind produces extraordinary emotions that are buried deep within thick layers of flesh. My heart pumps as a percussion producing music of my soul, which release feelings beyond comprehension.

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The only cure from this infection that drains me as the ocean drowns the rocks, is to make the world my wife, and rename her earth… romance her, love her and with her I can create a culinary masterpiece, a dish, I named: Poetic Food.