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The Key to Limes

By: Matthew Rogers

Like ripples in a jug of Minute Maid juice


and the light drops of condensation,
I stare silently.

Messy minds make messy people.


You’re the one who told me that
remember?
My head is a jumble of thoughts, naughty Playboy images.
I’m textbook,
remember?

The green eye looks at me as if it was a tease


and your naked arse sits silently on the counter,
while your bare legs
dangle
like right angle triangles.

You said you make pie tonight


“It’ll be your favourite!”
Now I know why
The cream on top always tasted funny...

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