I stared at the side of her head in the hope she would fall in love with me. She was drinking some kind of lager and was obviously suffering from hay fever. Maybe it was her vulnerability, the way she held her hands sweetly in get lap against the fabric of her floral dress; the way she looked around the room like a child, the innocence and enthusiasm. Her neck was a heavenly world.
What was going on in
those thoughts?
.jpg "True love Occurs - the Idiotllectual")
Would I want to know, would it poop all over my vision of
perfection?
Yes of course it would. Who wants that anyway.
I will love her forever - as long as she doesn't speak to
me.
No comments:
Post a Comment