“Porridge and orange
do not rhyme.”
Then danced a naked tango
on my bed.
“Oh,” I said,
“that’s how it’s done”—
an orange halo
on her head.
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“Porridge and orange
do not rhyme.”
Then danced a naked tango
on my bed.
“Oh,” I said,
“that’s how it’s done”—
an orange halo
on her head.
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.