Guacamole
He fought back a retch
And wiped at the mess
Holding back tears and breath
Crying out to
All that is holy
It is not a stretch
Much more than a guess
This moment was the death
Of his love for
Fresh guacamole
Poetry Scales 143
And wiped at the mess
Holding back tears and breath
Crying out to
All that is holy
It is not a stretch
Much more than a guess
This moment was the death
Of his love for
Fresh guacamole
Poetry Scales 143
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