The Good place

Adorable eatables

If anthropomorphism is meant for children's entertainment and

objectification is an adult industry,

you lady

would be a ladyfinger.

I have a schoolboy crush on you.

I cou' just eat ya up.

Life's about choices hon'.

Whom to embrace, Whom to shun.

Who gets the mirage of the prickly flower?

Who gets the Gulkand?

Speaking of honey.

If the female orgasm is nectar sweeter than honey,

does that make us gods or honey bees?

Or do men tend to overreach their capabilities?

New nomenclature - Pommy.

variants: or Pomegranate.

pronunciation: Paw-my.

noun. A human with a worn-out crown and seemingly hard shell. Her sweet insides, once possessed, come with a seed that never ceases to grow inside the stray.

The red is not of anger but passion.

There's this fox with false clout.

Believes you're Sauerkraut.

Too sweet, hanging too high for her.

All she can do is shout.

By the way, why do we stop at Rasgulla Cheeks?

Why not Sourdough obliques?

Fluffy bourbon cake thighs.

Jim-jams for eyes.

Sugar and plum jelly bum.

Lips flavoured bubblegum.

Sweet potato pair of fists.

It's a never-ending confectionery list.

I'm not calling you food miss.

I'm saying your soul is.

And I'm here for the piece talks.

Every time you offer it up

the saccharine, huggable being of yours

gets refilled.

So even if it's dark as burnt cocoa,

bitter as a stale beer,

strong as tabasco or,

sour as one citrine whole.

I want it all.

There's a cocktail party at home.

You're the only one who's invited.

So the real deal is —

Please continue being the adorable eatable as always

Or do I need more camouflage?