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with my (motherfucking) heart; or, coup de foudre
i saw her... and i knew... and i approached her and spoke my clever witty language game... and i gave her the eye contact that only a left-handed Scorpio can... and i wasn't as handsome in the face as i once was... and i was weathered and beaten by life... but it added flavor and idiosyncrasy (thought i)... but she was young... and beautiful... and narcissistic... and vaingloriously self-aware of the fleeting nature of her condition... all things i intensely admire in another human being... yet her response gave me hope... 'cause i will never play games with my (motherfucking) heart.
