sweet young thing
One day, in the Northern Hemisphere... from a season, you, the sweet young thing I philosophy deeply about, having the frequency and the magnitude of my thoughts, you will truly notice how much you have missed me... Sure, you will read this when I've given up on you already, at the hour of a season from the Southern Hemisphere, for I get tired of watching you playing with other souls, — [so innocents some...] but too demonized by themselves, — [probably...], or [because...] on one of your "beastly days", willy-nilly... you pointed to all, who you, indubitably, are...
