Be yourself. Just be honest. Preached but not often practiced. Pale-skinned lonely rural country lass. You're the most beautiful concoction of protoplasm I've ever seen, babe. That thing I mean. That's honest. A beauty I couldn't have even imagined and I'm a relatively creative lad. There were girls of a beauty familiar and possibly easily attainable, like an alluring happy-hour hooker. One with fancy perfumes maybe, all that comes with preening and some sort of colorful robe and a seductive veil for daring bedroom eyes. Okay we'll talk about the hooker comparison a few more lines. You know, those eyes that are so piercing and penetrating like knife wounds at the hands of impatient pimps where you'd need a veil just to subdue the radiating, swaying sensuality.
Too much. Be yourself. Just be honest. Be kind and truthful and things won't hurt you. But beyond those two-bit girls, you were. Like the space cliche: the universe is not stranger than we imagine, it's stranger than we can imagine. Your beauty worked that way, backed like our currency by a gold fortune of good ideas and good heart and a good read of a great story of intrigue. That Federal Reserve reference would only work before 1933 or something. Your disposition was a poem too pretty for one person's creation. The unbelievable is proof we're not alone and that's why you light my twatty soul like the moon. Where's that Tony Bennet tune. Where's that Frank Sinatra song.
It's a passive like for a passive one. Once I looked up your name on the net. How special are you that your only electronic footprint were reviews of bell-bottom pants. If it's wrong to Google you babe, I don't want 2 be right. It's honest. There's no way you'd read this without spying so we're even. You can't call someone out on moral high ground if you're inhabiting the same swingers club, somehow. Or if you lock eyes inside the same Dollar Tree and try to call me cheap, I'd say darling, get the fuck out. Love is all that's worthwhile and truth is its best vessel. If truth can cripple you, I'll tap out now, as its the only form of freedom. A life is an honest price for truth. Even at the expense of offending you. Sound the alarm. I've fallen and I can't get up!™
No comments:
Post a Comment