The Happiest of Anniversaries

All those people, standing around,
Watching us fight, our screams
And smacks making a spectacle
Of ourselves, this is not what
One expects, at a fine dining
Establishment, and it’s then, with
The smell of three-star food
All around, that irresistibly
Faux-French décor, we make up,
And let the hoots, catcalls,
And applause wash over us, as
I bend you over the dessert cart,
And take what’s rightfully mine.

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