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There is a certain type that I am apt to like, a Galliano smirk, it's true, won't make me take a hike. A bourbon habit, one raised brow a slow-drawled "Well, hello" - call me a sucker, I don't care, I admire a brogue-shod fellow. Wrap him up in hairy tweed mixed with well-packed denim, the physicality of Welles and literaryness of Heming (way). Politics were not a factor, or nationality, he engaged my interest with his brand of flattery. Challenging in points of view debating through small hours, I'd much rather conversation than all the world of flowers. For I've no need of roses to get my fix of blush. His whispers in a crowded room will rise me to a flush. This man of perfect manners, I'm as Venus when I stand with my jazzophile Jupiter, conjuncted, hand-in-hand. Shooting stars if wished upon may bring one single wish. Thus I knew, the day I met him, I had found my bliss.
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
Yet another ode to my husband
There is a certain type that I am apt to like, a Galliano smirk, it's true, won't make me take a hike. A bourbon habit, one raised brow a slow-drawled "Well, hello" - call me a sucker, I don't care, I admire a brogue-shod fellow. Wrap him up in hairy tweed mixed with well-packed denim, the physicality of Welles and literaryness of Heming (way). Politics were not a factor, or nationality, he engaged my interest with his brand of flattery. Challenging in points of view debating through small hours, I'd much rather conversation than all the world of flowers. For I've no need of roses to get my fix of blush. His whispers in a crowded room will rise me to a flush. This man of perfect manners, I'm as Venus when I stand with my jazzophile Jupiter, conjuncted, hand-in-hand. Shooting stars if wished upon may bring one single wish. Thus I knew, the day I met him, I had found my bliss.
miss-tabitha-devereaux
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
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