A love that never meets you directly in the eyes only when laughing really hard, thus comfortable with the situation you both lock gaze. Not in any sort of way, other than a blissful way. Euphorically caught, almost uncontrollably, flirting within the moment, rather unexpected, almost caught off-guard in the serendipity of joy’s one: luck. A glimmer almost eclipsing simultaneously along one-another’s mirroring pupil. Time at a stand-still in belly grabbing, because it’s almost that uncontrollable. And trying your best just slips away into the human memory’s future recollection of this moment just spiraling into a date-night of infinite PG-rated events. “I save you,” she says. Melting candle figurines of Boys Age U.S. Army men as candles on the cake. Struggling to blow them out fast enough for the boys. Friendly fire. A couple tunes for today:
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