Melanthara

A chocolate cake she didn't like to eat; she much preferred tortilla chips with lime. She was not picky; eating was sublime with her; I must admit it was a treat. Her shoes were shined; I rather liked her feet. A gleaming silver wristwatch kept the time that I devoted to this girl sublime; her golden leather sandal kept the beat. Her lips, they wore a color dark as coal; disturbing was her necklace, sharp as teeth. Her toes, a bloody red, would bother me. She would not hesitate to climb the pole of our dear flag; she'd fall down underneath. Oh, my sweet Melanthara, I hate thee.