I don’t normally go for you..you know?
his quizzical and slightly confused look
Would raise my hackles if I had any care
His profile is nothing like that shadowed figure
of MI5 agents and Moustached, gallant gentlemen
I suppose I resemble little of the sophisticated arched and poised challenges
He sits up, his back has been shaved at some point, and the vanity aggravates me
for no reason,
It is no more impressionable than his unimpressive flaccid attempts
To fulfil the role of being interested in the receptacle
I want to say, Don’t bother, theres nothing in you that interests me
I now know that ingrained dirt in the cuticles is something else I can stomach, along with matted hair, spit in the corner of a mouth and wanting the light on
So I guess it wasn’t a complete was of time.