Chemistry, chemistry, chemistry.
Isn't it supposed to be a mystery, part of the past and presents history. Blast at me the love with force full energy. Energy from me is so high, given to be given, the touch it seemed to taze and faze her gaze. Looked, locked in your heart forever, making her goodies swell with swollen drops of wetter than wet. Slippery slope, let's say no to dope and higher the hope, hoping to lose control but holding on only for the moments of memories to be counted. Quivered with the touch, the touch's holding with will, the clutches not so much as if I were a dutches.
Michelle Pullin 2019
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