There I was,
Pressed against her window, peering through the blinds. Ah, lucky, lucky me! I find her lolling on the wooden floor, drinking the afternoon sun, trying to learn her see, saw, seen. Crunch, crunch, crunch, go the autumn leaves. Yes, lucky me! I squirm behind a shrub; a periwinkle, to conceal my boyhood obsession, hide my growing manhood; but surely, she heard me, and surely, surely, she noticed my—
Who are you?
Silly little thing, don't you know? I love you.
Then I,
Held her between myself and the floor.
And loved her.
Twice.
Thrice.
Until she was,
Mine.
