Tell Me, Do I?

The burn-to-a-crisp tender-me-not love of your choice to be

Separate

In mind, in place, in disjointed juncture

At the crossroads of this and that

Who cares what, really–it’s all cliche these days

And so it goes that

Summing it up

I liked you, really

The light bulb turns on

There are rotors in the scooter

Scoot Scotaloooooo! Scoot ScotalOOOOOOO!

Something or some such

Without disregard for your sister,

xoxoxo

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