Romance needs that grease
Love wants a home
surrender demands that sacrifice
The juice beneath that foam
Destinations are craved by even the most wayward girls
Curiosities traded for stabilities
Bright adventures traded for the heavy shade of routine
A perch for us, we the mimicking parrots
What is a man these days without a dime to dine
Without an asset to boast of?
He is not a wave headed to shore
But the little lapping of a lake against it's margin
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