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September 10, 2009
My mouth is on my stomach and he kisses it quietly. Our noses bump he is so klutzy but it's okay. It's sweet as he holds my hand and I blush because his is sweaty. It's okay cutie pie. I like you, dear, don't think you can scare me off. I brush my hair off my forehead and pick at the scab on my hair. His hand moves my arm. Stop. No. I have to get this scab off, it's an eyesore I think. Everything is an eyesore, I think. What looks good now? Nothing, dear, absolutely nothing but you.