It is a backyard in the low sun, late afternoon glare in my eyes that made the shape of her face and the way her hair fell around her cheeks look just like a dying star.
Oh, pretty girl. She is saying something, and I am not listening. I wonder what she looks like under her t-shirt. I wonder what she sounds like when she's not wearing words.
And oh, she is saying something, but all I can hear is my brain screaming By Christ kiss me.
