he really shouldn't be so ashamed. his face erubescent, the way he tells a lie he thinks is full of veracity. i admire such a man.
the thaumaturgy of simply living amazes me.
her muscles as lissome as a panther's, the way she pounces of pray makes my heart beat harder and my chest demand more air. my belly aches from her sweetness. to appertain to such a woman becomes inconceivable. i suspect she think me wicked for making such wonderous things with dirty hands hidden. a conciliatory voice intended to soothe does more harm then good and i hang my head in shame over the things that i have said and believed.
the leper remains a laggard and she keeps running from me.
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