Rating/Warnings: T (for the F!bomb and allusions to sex), coffee-house poetry.
Discliamer: I do not Hetalia, only this composition.
Summary: Written in the style of a coffeehouse poetry scene, this was spoken last night at a place quite like it and met with kind applause. America is feeling on the top of his game and had his eye on a certain man hanging out at the bar.
A/N: Created for a budding community called the_good_parts: here.
Sorry mods for shameless pimping, but I gotta represent and give a little love to the amazing fadingsundays and easterly.