Wine Harold Bin 0000003

You know when you purr it turns me on.

You made your eyes extra wide tonight and I'm not sure what that means.

You left your wallet on the street and I found it.

I always like it when you take advantage of my weaknesses. I pretend to guard them carefully, but really I just want to serve them all up in a silver bowl and let you pick through them until you find the ripest ones.

I know we're talking about a cheap theatrical trick but there was some kind of depth to the gesture. Nothing is by accident and I feel like your eyes are already a source of friction between me and the things I had going before I met you.

I rifled through it to find your license. I assume you don't mind because now you'll be able to get your wallet back and you won't have to cancel your library card. I hope you answer your phone though, despite the unknown number I will be.

It's not fair, you tell me, I know all your spots now, and I laugh like the bad guy in a movie, but secretly I'm glad you felt like you could show me where to touch you because now I know.

It's not fair to be more attentive to your needs than everyone else here, but your tricky eyes trick me.

It's not fair to get mad at me for tracking you down. Look at this great excuse I had, returning your lost property. If I ask you to get a drink with me, what's the big deal? What's the big deal if you tell your husband you're going out to get your wallet returned. It'll be the truth won't it? Just not the whole truth.