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I always wanted to be more like your french girls. they see sex, scandal, express, and the door. I see eye to eye with you and you're the one to bid me the goodbye only returning when you feel like it. they want material and I want nothing tangible to anyone but me. I want you to be mine and only that. why is it your french girls get to soak in the morning with you as you cross limbs and guide hips of plastic as a final goodbye while I listen waiting for it to be over? i wish I could fall asleep and pretend it never happened but it did and it continues. i let you go but I'll guide you back home into my arms if you'd let me. i love you like the french girls love your sex as documented on your right to life and you praise them for theirs. english blue blonde and sorrowful, i love you and i will forever more. please let me show you, as my last act of solace and I will free you of what used to be you and me.
