Loegaire

You have sharp pulse-elevating teeth the stuff I imagine heart attacks are made of I'm bent on selling you a handful of smiles specifically crafted to distract you from the fact that I have almost nothing to say and now you're steering this conversation in a direction that suggests you've forgotten that I don't watch movies or do much of anything but work which maybe explains why one glass of wine gets me wrapped around you car to streetlight crash style mangled limbs breeding curious onlookers and my insurance has expired you're leaning in and all I can think is I don't have insurance