MilaWrites
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“Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be alone”, he says
As his tongue skates on her collarbone
She’s never felt the love of a man, of a father
So she paints her face and oils her breasts
Do you think they’ll notice?
Do you think they’ll notice how I
so carefully excuse myself before it’s time to eat?
Or that when I do, before I’m done, I’m out of my seat, on my feet, into the bathroom
