the snow was falling like kisses blown from god. i twirled aroundaroundaround and felt his breath on my face, his soft lips caressing my cheek. look at me: i am god's little girl, dancing and squealing in nothing but a short-sleeve t-shirt and acid-washed jeans. (but i caught the snowflakes in my mouth because kisses on the cheek are r enough, and i'm a !secret! ssslut).
kisses blown from god by none of burt's beeswax


