Myron MacKenzie’s Meat

♥ His powerful forearms were painted in red, And his great cleaver danced with precision, Observed the young girl from the foot of her bed, As she ogled the graceful incision. ♥ Her beating heart quickened whenever a chicken, He carved up and cleft into sections. Besmitten, her breathy heaves thickened. So stricken Was she, […]

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