save me from the earnest young men with no souls their possessive wooden hands scraping the small of my back with robot passion
give me undulating hearts in warm flesh smiles without controlling whirl of humility and hope, humor meet me, round and round and hand to hand til blood rises to my cheeks
do not
check me with your eager power
prettier.
Choosing a selection results in a full page refresh.
Press the space key then arrow keys to make a selection.
