Tuesday, May 06, 2003

snapshot of a crush

he is a force to be reckoned with, one of those people who evokes clint eastwood in some spaghetti western. his eys are clear blue pools his mouth the end of cupids' arrow.

i see him often, my crush, and each time i am rendered immobile.

we glance at each other across a crowded room, never speaking. the night ends and we leave seperately, my crush and i.

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