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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Arts >> ID #627035 |
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Butter, not Butter I can believe you're not butter. How the pan embraces your firm form! More heat must be needed Because medium fails to transform. I raise the fire, Hoping for a creamy melt. Buttered sauce is my dream, But low calories will keep me svelte! Scraping the black clump, Spatula against stainless steel, With heaviness I pivot on my feet To the trash to dump the unreal.
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