You couldn't argue the girl.
(You wouldn't swallow hot coals either)
But you grabbed,
Plunged, mouth first
An errant stunt-moron
A one person tunnel boring machine
Cutting holes of the 6 ft deep vintage
Singe the flesh from your lips,
Burn through your esophagus
They'll cheer you in the ICU
She'll celebrate your recovery
Maybe concede a draw
(With caveats and conditions)
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We were all strangers in the good old days.
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