Denim, Deli, & Desire

Saw you leanin’ at the counter, jeans painted tight,

Turkey slicin’ like you own the night.

Apron low, that look says “bite,”

I knew right then I’d lose this fight.

You say “extra meat?” — I say “please,”

You serve it hot, with a side of tease.

Sweat on your brow, pepper on your lips,

And I’m prayin’ for a taste of your hips.

Denim, deli, and desire,

You got my buns risin’ higher and higher.

Steam from the slicer, heat from the street,

You're that rare cut I can't defeat.

Denim, deli, and desire —

Let’s get wrapped up in this fire.

You stack it thick with seasoned sin,

Pastrami moans and pickle grins.

That mustard drip? It's not by chance —

You’re servin’ lunch with a lap dance.

Back room keys, a whisper slice,

You lay it out — warm, wet, and nice.

Lettuce watch, tomato scream,

While you fulfill my meatball dream.

Denim, deli, and desire,

Rye on the shelf, but I’m the buyer.

You got the mayo, I bring the jam,

Spread it thick — let’s break the dam.

Denim, deli, and desire —

Takin’ orders that require…

Ooh, behind the counter, you cut so deep,

Slice through my hunger, no time for sleep.

I’ll take that to-go, or eat it right here —

Lay me down with a grinder and a leer.

Denim, deli, and desire,

Pressed like paninis, set on fire.

You in denim, me on knees,

Lettin’ love drip like deli grease.

Denim, deli, and desire…

Servin’ lust that don't expire.

You wrap it tight, seal it slow…

And baby, I’ll come back tomorrow.