The drunk smile in honey, with the snow in the scorched earth, the darkness of the sunless clouds, rough in the bark of the trees, and if there are bad definitions for you are those, I want you to see, that I don’t know how to speak.
How do you expect me to flirt with you when you do this to me? Look at my eyes, my lips, my feet, my body, and notice, my voice that trembles, the always, anxious, obvious and pure desire that I love you.
T.A.
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