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Tall and tan and young and handsome...
She couldn’t help it. He passed and her chest began to heave, and her heart began to pound—oddly enough in a samba rhythm. They must have written the song about him. He met all the criteria. Didn’t miss one. She longed to seek umbrage in his burnt umber arms. Fold herself into his sun-singed limbs and be one with him for ever. She felt something burning, bubbling up inside her. Was it desire? Or the fajitas she’d had for lunch.
Date Written: May 16, 2003
Author: Jimson S. Sorghum
Average Vote: 5