The subtle clues were obvious, unveiling a passionate incision that obsessively unlocked his creative resolve, strengthening the fibers of his exhistance. It sparkled enthusiasm, quietly jiving in different direction, thrilling the occasional hesitant soul.
When I am with you, I exist!
I whisper the appetizer of a ring toned down by the calm river, a cry in the park enslaved by a burning fire. Smoldering at your resolve, my heart beeps like an adolescent at an abandoned cabin where I take refuge!
I love your lipstick.
I love the color. It looks nice on you.
Thank you, I do too. It complements my skin.
What’s the brand name?
Maybelline, Revlon, Bobby Brown… perhaps? I don’t recall.
Oh yeah, what’s the number?
Now, sister, my lips are sealed…