The domesticated canine is in disguise,
disguise comes in three flavors now.
The vanilla belly stands out and reminds the rest of the crowd that
the silent killer of today left his weapon at home.
He and she, they are of different kinds. They sleep together apart, they never share a powdered sugar tart.
But tart it is, bitter the taste, tasting the trial, the trial of taste.
Selective taste gave me you, picky taste gave me pickles
This selection was successful, but with success comes the tart costume party to tug at your right wing.
I need a large coffee, the wind on the balcony was only almost enough,
to enjoy stillness for a miniature second.