I want to paint on you, beautiful things.
I want my brush to feel free. I, just so incredibly want to see my smears and splashes create a smile, miles wide across the balloon shaped noggin that holsters two bulls eyes, simply staring.
Is that ok? Do you mind me staying safe, and on this side of the protective barrier? I will feed you through the fence, I swear. Carrots might taste good. Do you like heightened eyesight?
Do you see me fighting alligators and jipping waiters to save up for formula? I am already in a sweet surrender-styled recline. I am getting mine. I wish you were looking and saw me cry.
Yea! I go in cycles. Capitalize on that, please. Add energy, TLC, a way to get in touch with you and a picture of your eyes, please. Especially when I’m feeling low, looking for a hand, soft heart and nutrients, invest in me.
It is literally exhausting to stay as open as I can be, 110% of the time. Illustrate clearly, I am welcome. Shout it from the rooftops, I’m all you could ask for, all you could ever want. Wink slowly. I don’t want to miss reading in between those lines. I want to be greedy with the love, affection and feelings of feeling whole.
I want a motorboat to get across the moat installed around your heart. I will wear my hat backwards starting today.
Tell your friends to tell me how much you want to get next to me, instead of how easy it has been for every other guy to show their wives unfaithfulness.
Just let me re-adjust the angle of the lighting to better show you off to the spectators wanting a bloodbath to ensue.
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