She meanders in her stupor with nothing much to convey. I assign destiny with the influence of prior baggage, wondering whether, if given a chance, she’d sedate me, setting the house and blaze, escaping the smoldering home as the victim of a defective furnace—the adored widow. My vulnerability cements our intentions, much of the dreaming kind between this accidental love. Alive before we die for life.
(© 2022 AC)
Drink Coffee Write 
Super interesting, the past is often overlooked! I wrote a piece as well about some first relationship advice; perhaps it would be interesting to you!
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Thank you. I ‘d love to read your work.
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Curious to hear what you think about the content. I’d love to receive your feedback!
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