May 24, 2002
She is my Muse. Mesmerized by her voice, her movement, Her. From the moment I met her I was hers. From the bar to the sidewalk to the roller coaster to the stalking. No one else has had the dramatic effect as she. I languish through days until I get to her. Blue hair polkas and free beer on cold days I am hers. Pearls and religion and water pistols and picnics and DJs I am at her side. Sisters or fireworks or chocolate parades or apartments, she captivates. Clover before everybody beat I am caught, my Muse, To fall.