Fickle - February 25, 2011

Let me be plain as rain and bright as gold, Jashwa Austin I do not love you.
Aye, I kissed you in the rain, gesturing quick with the crook of my little finger when Mrs. Perkisins wasn't looking. Old Ma says I outta stay away from your fense. I have to listen to what she says.
I let you smell my hair, twine your fingers safely around mine, trace my nose. This I don't mind, in fact they're treasures to me...Locked up in my brain.
But dear sweet Jash, gosh Jash, what'd you expect? Love you till the rain pours, like ya till your nose falls off, fight ya with my last breath in my very heart. Even in high curiousness would I-even if we might get caught-, throw sharp rocks at the old Mayor's em-pty house along beside you until it's shingles jaggle like a jutebox.
But I woun't do some things. I'd never cause the blush would flood so fast to my cheeks, fall in love with the likes of an old country boy as you? I'd never say I'd love with you did I?
...I love you Jash.
 

-Pinquill girl