i see you out there with all your brown hair blowing around like adonis walking around with your eighteen year old flat stomach and cute smile.
stop waving at me.
when you're in your jeep with the top down and all your hair is blowing in the breeze and you have your feet on the dashboard and no shirt on.
stop waving at me.
when you're walking your dogs and wandering around the neighborhood barefoot while i'm running and i'm hot and sweaty and almost done with this last 400 meters and i'd love to make the whole run in under 30 minutes and you're still shirtless.
stop waving at me.
i might run off the road. i might twist an ankle. i do not see the likes of your hair or stomach anywhere these days but on television.
all i see are beer bellies of drunk forty somethings who love football and hot wings.
your hair is distracting and your stomach is too flat.
please, keep your shirt on.
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