You have a sexy pensive quality.
Your worry turns me on.
Anxiety is hot.
Bon bon butterscotch baby.
Collapse into firey demonic disguises.
Saturate your flames with my dizzy distraction.
Closer to my dreams, she said?!
Eventual ecstasy is my silver lining.
Horizontal lighthouse beacon guide.
I will apprehend myself
And think of an excuse for my lateness.
Your breath remains,
on my skin’s ear delivering,
Sweet nothings.
Monday, January 14, 2008
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