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By Galadrial Date: 2003 Oct 05 Comment on this Work [[2003.10.05.22.00.852]] |
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Date: 27 May 1998 damn it. seventeen years in your arms and bed, eleven I've been you wife, and still that smile leaves me limp makes me melt like butter on popcorn and gives me the roman/russian thing. I'm not a damned kid you know, not supposed to think of you every hour---why aren't we like the others? why don't you bore me, why don't I have tepid thoughts more suitable to my age and station? But no. Not with you. With you it's roman candles still and frankly at my age, I should be wearing something beneath these skirts, don't you think? |