At the most northern point of the island, in a coffeeshop facing the mainland, I sit and grade and only steps away sits the most lecker looking female that I have seen. Perhaps it is because she speaks auf Deutsch to her friend. Perhaps because of that lovely olive skin. But she fills my heart with want and desire. Just her image, for I know nothing else. How strange the passions are. But I can imagine her scent in general, how it feels to run your fingers across her skin. The smell of her hair. The way she looks at you from the distance of a few inches.
I want to be confronted by her flower.
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