She toasts his puny arse in a meat grinder, expert on survival.
Missunderstood, her mouth's talent for invective guards a fragile heart.
What weird game are you playing, Love, avoiding those who really need you?
She has a kind heart and fantastic lamps, but the Waitrose frumps find love?
Interesting, you smile, but your flushed cheeks say you're pissed off, Mystery Woman.
Portia's name comes up-- remembering the challenge in her eyes, I laugh.
Sweet days and nights side by side with Portia, dodging flying cups and chairs.