I am completely out of good ideas.
This isn't exactly what I'd call good company.
Being alone with you.
A worthwhile bad memory.
To know the future doesn't seem all that bad.
Under certain conditions.
Preconceived notions of cause and effect.
Yet predictable to see exactly where we're going.
Being in love with you seems like a bad idea.
I learned that the hard way.
The touch of a hand on the small of your back.
Afterwards we could both agree.
This was a really bad idea.
Picking up where the other left off
— The End —