“I am selective in who I fall for, who I invest time in, my life in. I don’t fall for women as easily as it might seem on the surface. I am a poet and a romantic, true… but I don’t pick three-leaf clovers, or even clovers with four leaves–I pick the ones with seven leaves… A patch of freckles on your chest, behind a clover pendant, below your neck, surrounded by the frill of an olive shirt… I’m not staring I’m just surprised –You dressed nice for your date with me… Too bad for me this just an idle dream, that pulls my heart through my throat, like a black hole that just won’t let go. Love has me in a ice cold choke hold, because I’m the butt of this cosmic joke told by seven laughing snow white flakes and the promise that maybe love exists, but doesn't"
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