I see you. we walked through the hall filled with broken furniture. Your dress was pretty, black, puffed up around the shoulders, showing off more than just your blond hair. Your maskera was thick. Your legs were long. When you said bonjour I felt the heat run all the way up. I liked how you bent over pretending to look at that useless trinkit your dress parting around your ass. I wanted so bad to take your hand and tenderly lead you to the record aisle. Reveal the rest of your face, your lips under that matching black mask. You had such nice eyes. Your leg held up cradling the outside of my thigh the beating of your desire as I pull your under garment down.