The more I know, the more it grows. The "it" becomes "they". I am slowly becoming consumed by the flames of desire for You. I try to put off washing my hands because I don't want to ever lose the scent of You.
Wait, that last line was a bit stalker-ish...
I ball up the paper, and it joins a dozen others. I'm lousy with the small talk; I am a vessel of action. But Patience and Action are becoming more at war with each passing day. I can't even force myself to not look at her. Willpower escapes me. She is the Voodoo Queen, and I am under her spell.
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