He was like the bearded woman. Part sensitive, part harsh, sweet and sour, like a hard pill to swallow, yet so gentle like the touch of a breeze. His hair, so soft when in collision with your skin, it would drive you crazy to feel it and his eyes… yeah, those were something to talk about. When he looks at you, you feel a burn coming from the top of your head down to your toes and his smile, shiny and penetrating on you, just fantastic! Imagine how I would feel having him everyday, next to me, touching me, teasing me to do something wrong because he wasn’t good at all. I found him walking down the street one day, he looked, he waved, he smiled, and voila! Instant chills up and down my spine. I bet his heart is dead, though. Black, empty hole.
November 22, 2009