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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Food/Cooking · #1345737
Prompt: garlic
Look at her lying there,
So precious and so pure.
The line of her neck
Holds fresh crimson allure.

To bend over her
And inhale that sweet perfume
Of blood, rich and sweet,
My hunger fills the room.

My fangs extend,
Two gleaming white points
To sink into her neck,
Where her shoulder meets joint.

But wait! Something’s wrong,
My nose wrinkles in distaste.
A stench emanates from her mouth,
Like the foulest of all waste.

It makes my body shiver,
And cramp and then get sick.
The cunning little temptress
Has eaten a bulb of garlic.

And around her neck,
A string of bulbs reside.
How could I not have noticed,
When it didn’t try to hide?

In disgust, I stumble away,
Garlic vanquished my own lust,
Another Halloween, no treat,
But trick! My hopes tumble to dust.
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