five and lime gothic romance


Elf-like, witch-like, you spellbind me with your gothic beauty, for it is immense. Swiftly you drift through the door and into the room beyond the bar before reappearing ready to begin the mastery of your witchcraft – the way that you handle the glasses and bottles with your tiny hands as your jet black hair falls over your pale face and shoulders. Mesmerised, I watch on from my seat just before the bar. I notice you frequently glance at me and I wonder if you are curious, interested, or simply uncomfortable because I am unable to divert my eyes for too long. A pain fills me; a pain that stems from the clear knowledge that I shall never know your kiss nor your touch, I shall never hear your beautiful voice and well-formed words used in delicate and tender caring because you are simply too young and too beautiful to choose the likes of me. I’d promised myself that I’d speak to you if ever you reappeared but I simply don’t have the courage now and all is lost.

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