Spent
They were two clever bastards who didn’t play games shunning the hypo racy of horses for courses . going their own way loving what they had only living for each other not caring about the fad. Growing for each other escaping the mire of other people’s fantasies of brimstone and fire. Living in the moment loving every minute escaping the mediocrity of tedious desires. Swimming against the tide never will they hide from the agent provactuer trying to disintegrate thier heartfelt desires. Love is an antiserum of our strange times. The End.
