You loved my yellow. Eyes and hands wondered all over me in that yellow. That yellow was sometimes my carrot, sometimes my stick. the more I think about that yellow the more I think… I need to throw that dress away.
A writer of prose and other trivia. Adventurous, a teacher, an axer. Conscious of the black. An acquired taste. I go to seek the Great Perhaps. Perhaps someday I will be the best version of myself.
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