Bless

Though I don’t provide myself a dessert plate at this cold, rainy night, well, say assorted wild berries with custard sauce drizzled pairing with champange, I tell myself that hey, at least you can imagine the dish; beautiful color palette arranged on a refined china, white linen napkin, silver utensil underneath waiting for your elegant gesture to open them up, oh yes, a nice breezing day should that be, Summer or Spring, that doesn’t matter and can’t you hear that Mozart piano conceto flowing from somewhere?…

Though I can’t have you, I can’t marry you and pair up in that castle and bring you a bunch of living, growing up disasters, what I’m saying is I know what I like and I clearly remember what color was that damn wild berry. Very vivid. Really. I can even tell you how it showed the seeds through the transparent Vermilion skin. Oh so young and so genteel.

C’est tout.
Love me as I am or leave me.

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