Perfection
On inspection
And reflection
My customer-mistress
Is perfection.
I kiss her feet
Out on the street
A better girl
I'll never meet!
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| Late at night, a perfect young woman approaches me from across the square |
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| The closer she gets, the more perfect she looks |
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| Even her arrogant, self-confident stance when she stops in front of me, with one sneakered foot resting at a devil-may-care angle, is perfect! |
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| She first crouches down to my lowly level in order to mock me to my confined face... |
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| ...before imposing her right sneakered foot on my menial mouth. I must respectfully kiss it! |
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| She then does the same with her left sneaker |
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| Not only are her sneakers perfection... |
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| ...her socks are too! |
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| What a privilege, what an honour, to serve such perfection in the dead of night! |
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| This is where gorgeous goddesshood meets gormless gimp... |
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| ...and the gormless gimp must publicly demonstrate his innate inferiority! |
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| Nobody bats an eyelid |
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| What could be more natural than a pathetic, head-in-the-wall, public footslave kissing a superior young woman's feet... |
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| ...the feet of perfection? |
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| I take one last, lingering look at the back of her perfect sock |
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| Oh how I yearn to accompany those socks, and serve them all my life! |
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| But the perfect wearer of the socks has already forgotten about me |
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| Her socks are no doubt heading off for a late-night rendezvous with her boyfriend... |
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| ...whereas I must stay here... |
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| ...and dream of serving perfection! |



















