Tuesday, March 22, 2011

eleven minutes left on the Panera clock.

You’re funny, you know.

In the way that you speak, and the way that you move.

Carelessly, clumsily, yet with a sense that you know exactly what you are doing.

Your words: Biting and definitive, yet fluid and transient.

My darling you are a paradox.

I would love for you to be

[my paradox].

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