melle-belle's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- please don't stop How do you do this to me, and "Mercy!" I cry. You must stop. I can take no more. Frankly, you're killing me. We had a reception yesterday, trusts were launched, backs were patted, glasses were raised. Basically, it was a cocktail party full of self-important types. And you. And me. We closed down the joint. We made a list of things we shouldn't necessarily do at work - finable offenses if you will. All very tongue-in-cheek. This morning, all grins, you came up and reminded me that I wanted to keep the fines in a pink, piggy bank. You bought one last night. It sings when you feed it. We sang to you this afternoon, and you smiled. You laughed. You are killing me, and this is not merely lust. Because I can't even imagine sleeping with you. I can't get that far; my daydreams revolve around talking with you and perhaps holding your hand. How are you so damn smart? The greatest thrill in the world is when you take pause over one of my thoughts. 10:46 p.m. - 2008-06-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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