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Hot Bloomers
You had hidden talents, special skills
One was bakinng bread
When first I smelt your crusty loaf
I could have dropped down dead
The staff of life, the staff of life is bread
A hot bloomer cant be bettered
The sight of you kneading fresh dough
Left my loins on fire, my lust unfettered
That first taste left me spellbound
Nothing was ever so evocative
From then...
Monday 1st June 2020 11:12 am
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