Disclaimer:
This will be truthful.
Not the pretentious made up me,
That I zipped on to meet you at a bar.
That wasn’t a date,
It was a paraded show.
Favourite jeans and trainers,
Sunk into a cinema seat.
That’s how you will get to know me.
Mandatory conditions for application:
A gamer of undead proportions,
Plus movie buff who can open my eyes.
Thou shall not judge music,
So no prune face when I mention Metalica.
Product warning:
My hair doesn’t smell of strawberries,
And I sometimes forget to have my legs waxed.
But I will accept your man pants sprawled across the flat,
And bacon sarnies instead of your 5 a day.
As we shoot our way through a Sunday afternoon,
Avoiding the sunlight of convention.
May be we can we fall in love.
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