Little Black Book of a Floriculturist
Intoxicating
And to the man!, Who just told my best friend, That he would drink her like a tall glass of milk, Let me stop you there! 1. Because she is lactose - infucking- tolerant and 2. Because she is more of an elixir See if she were a wine, She would taste like, The kaleidoscope colors of a tapestry, Melted down into a sunset, poured from the big dipper, Bottle her, You will taste the essence of her invigorating smile, Bubbling over inside of you, She is the fruit of her mother's labor, Shelter her, Let her age ever so bittersweetly, She will collect dust, But like that of saturn's rings, Magnificent, And i don’t believe in God, But i heard he turned water into wine, I mean he had to, Have you seen her, And if she were a whiskey! She’d be the kind of strong that allows you to be weak, And i’d cheers, “Mas Cervezas!” If her father's love grows inside of her like hops, She’d be one incredible IPA, She is one of my best friends, The kind you have a shot and a beer with, The kind that you have no fear with, You roll up to the abyss of the future like a road trip, And she picks the next song, Sip her, Allow yourself to acknowledge every note