“You should call security. These homeless people.” But there was something else, some bit of sadness — “...always think it’s tragic when I’m the one paying rent...” — behind still-hopeful eyes, as a silly heart-shaped balloon floated forward, started to sag. “in our building? Was he good looking?” What? His eyes shut mine against the breach. So much to give as you focus parts, abs and arms alone, always. But those weighted lips, like waves, carried dreams until they reached my shore..
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