to me you are the epitome of the perfick
stop don't go there it's far too manic
the words they're not special or even pictoric
i wish that i could re-meet you
in that steakhouse booth with a backache
and call it a night, a life
and be through, barely a bleep
now i see what ensued
every night in my sleep
by Ilyn
"for you, Shab"
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