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   How to Eat Chocolate

 Try this.

 Place five succulent,
 hand-dipped chocolates
 —each with a luscious filling—
 before a discriminating woman and ask her,
 without tasting, touching or exploring,
 to choose her favorite.
 She will say that
 what you ask is impossible.
 And she’s right.

 Chocolate is a slave
 to its composition.
 Dark chocolate grows bitter
 as the cocoa content rises,
 milk chocolate turns to velvet
 when whole milk replaces skim,
 and cocoa butter, no imitations,
 makes chocolate melt sultry
 upon the tongue.

 Only by placing her tender lips
 upon its sweetness, melting the silken sheath
 with her heat, her bite teasing yet insistent,
 tongue encircling each distinctive core,
 probing to unleash
 its innermost secrets—
 only then can she
 choose the flavor
 best suited to her taste.

 But place a man before this woman
 and in under one minute she will tell you,
 without tasting, touching or exploring,
 that he is not her type—his hair is
 disheveled, his height is wrong,
 his dress sense is wanting or his
 income’s too small. She will say
 loving him is impossible.
 And she’s right.

 He deserves better.
 

—Lex Thomas
 

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