Here at honeymooners anonymous, we welcome people coming from every stage of lustful self-destruction.
We particularly aim to help those who are addicted to the honeymoon phase.
Yes, addicted. And pills can't fix it.
Because when you first meet a person and their lips taste like honey, you assume that they must always taste like honey, that you and them will be in a stasis, a trance, a tasty eclair filled with a never-ending flow of creamy love.
But one day your beau eats onions. No longer tasting like sweet sugar, you stop, re-evaluate. Why settle for onion breath when there are honeys buzzing all around you?
The full moon comes ever so soon, and before you know it your love is gone too.
Every full moon you transform, like a werewolf, from a man to a rabid creature.
On the hunt, on the prowl, so here you are. Seeking perfection.
An immaculate pair of hands to hold, fingernails trimmed long but not too long, French manicure and Italian perfume. Perfection.
Milky white skin, free of sin, eyes that glow in the dark and a jellybean nose.
Cute laugh, mild manners, independent, grim at times, happy at others, a perfect lover.
Will kneel at your feet, raw and sweet, and complicated with many little bittersweet parts like a pomegranate.
Oh where is this perfection you crave?
Here at honeymooners anonymous, we have only one piece of advice:
Eat an onion and see, that you're not perfect too.
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