star wars

looking here, i see glasses. yummy shiny, i want the shiny. i can't believe he's still talking, i think he has a fever/ and now hes looking longingly at me with his tawny locks. mmmmmmm, tawny. lips so subtle and gentle, the betrayers of a race of women too long overlooked by the effervescent effeminates of our time. pop your collar, young man, ears aloft with fever. dance maroon sweater, dance. entrance my eyes with glimmering glory and all will be sound and safe.