The Poetry of Pizza

Your scent announces you before the doorbell even rings. 
I grin with anticipation knowing soon you will be here.

I pay your chauffeur and then carry you over the threshold and seat you in my parlour. 
It is all coming together as I imagined it.

I notice you still wear your wrap. 
My gentle and experienced fingers work quickly to expose all your tender goodness.

My breath is taken away by just how hot you are. 
I wait a moment to allow both of us to cool down.

I unhurriedly take one of your fingers and bring it close to my lips, 
Remembering your sauciness at our last encounter and daring to hope to sample it again.

Finally I bring you into my mouth and get my first taste of you this evening, 

My hunger for you is exquisite and a moan escapes me.

But something isn't right. You are not the same. 

I am suspicious, and before I continue, I take a good long look at you.

There is a flaw in your beauty. 
They forgot the onions again!