The man of her dreams

Sinking

she rose,

spluttering,

a gem in her hand,

a moment from time

usually lost.

Truth snatched

from the reverie,

just before sleep.

As she slipped off

after a day of infinite choices,

selections, ticking boxes,

it came to her:

she liked her men

strong,

sensitive,

soft,

embossed.

Just like her toilet paper.

Armed with knowledge, now she can rest.

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