I see you in the Cockeysville Walmart, and you see her. Your face begins to turn red, and you start clinging to your male company so hard they look at you in bewilderment like you have just fell off the face of Mars and onto their dinner table.
What is it about my female company that disturbs you so? Their glow from hours before? Knowing I touched them head to toe, like I did with you - opening a rush of tingles? Knowing how hard I grabbed them while I pushed myself into her so fast and hard and long she looses control - screaming in convolutions while my changing blue eyes pierce their soul? Knowing after how I touched them, swirling their colors, opening a connection that later allows me to find their pain, and pull it out like the joker in a set of cards? Or not knowing the reason why they glow so much brighter that you, and you may never know why? Or perhaps you're no longer the object of all my time, and affections, and my time, and my poetry, and my time, and my spells. Yes, I gave you so much of my time... Enlighten me, please.
You have a very interesting blog . You can delete it if you like, but everything is already saved. Is that me? Or is that a number of people as you evolve, your interests fade and return. How long will it be me? I have been told it reads similar to mine, this is not my intent.
Je t'aime idiot!
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