A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Ballads; Over And Over Again
His voice does it for me, every time. I've said it once and I'll say it again. I'd rather have a man who can sing over one who can dance, any day. (Something suspicious about a guy who's too smooth on the dance floor if you know what I mean.)
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