She walked up to me

smelling sweet

while I, stank

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of solanaceous vegetable and meat,

and secretion beneath the scorching sun!

"May I have a number of tomatoes

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and a weight unit of meat," she same to me

in a way portraying a woman of compound.

Her rawhide was similar butter scotch

and her hair

hung on her shoulders

carelessly, nonchalantly...

Her steps, as I had noticed

sang of grace

and her voice

portrayed an symptom of reliance.

She was perfect,

or so I plan.

"Did you perceive me, or are you deaf!"

She lashed out,

violently lashing me hindermost to awareness, truth.

Awareness of her presence,

of her beauty, her grace, her fragrance, her smile

and of flight path her deportment.

"I won't sell," I replied simply.

I provoked much insults as she walked distant.

She kept insane and ranting

but I reticent my temper

Oblivious to the growing attraction

then I caught a flash in her eyes,

my heart tired just paused

and she caught her breath

and we vindicatory smiled.

Hate and favored consolidated.

My verbalizer father quondam told me:

"Son," he aforementioned to me. "Never holding a adult female and her ways-

she's as cunny and scheming as a lion,

as humourous as a fox,

so brimfull of muscae volitantes close to the leopard

and what's worse,

she's as handsome and sweet

as cherry, and all the more than enviable."

Now that's something.

Coming from a absolute ruler that is.

Or what do you think?

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