For the first time in a long time, I wear my yesterday’s white shirt.
Luckily, it tells no stories I censured before crashing to bed:
unshaven armpit fragrance, some wool fabric of a known origin where it’s always dry hell but never satisfying thirst.
Enough is enough as I scroll through my new favorite app: Edible Quotes
Resourcefulness it says, as I stroke my turquoise true color pony tale to match the lagoon I frequent, British accents commentary as I stumble upon my date to write history.
An influencer.
That is what it says on the business card.
But again, it sheds no light on my curious yet lost if I am honest few true fans.
This human being that screams with a full swing of tongue over both lips, yeah a full description of the toxic positivity I’ve almost put my shades on, even though it was already 1 am. Gotta hide my intentions, the art of seduction, I am a dangerous pro.
He gives me 4 kisses and another cherry top on the very palm he requested: May I honor your presence?
Charlie Puth’s How Long lyrics were appearing in the lounge’s TV screen to entertain sleepless children of party animal parents.
What by accident? we were all drawn to be.
