Can this selfishness actually reference love?
Or is it merely lustful acts?
Or the Monetary solace?
True love...
Oh where doth thou rest?
For I wish to sleep amongst your covers, to warm you in my arms
No plastic prostitution can convert me from my beating hearts path, no longer I suppose...
No such other path will do, not golden pavement, nor crimson mud, as I must hold the hand of my heart and of my love, though the elegance and ownership of such a hand, the identity of such skin, time holds the key to that lock, and I shall accept it once perfection is in plain view, obvious to my eyes, no aid shall be needed on my endever. I am myself.
Wait, you'll see...
<3
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