This loser thinks he's special because I wrote of his breath that rattles like the smell of weed and toothpaste and told stories of his strong arms to my friend from home. Those icy blue eyes that are so bright they blind me. The way these eyes glaze over in the most serious fashion as he tilts his head back in ecstasy. I love getting under his skin and making him squirm. Finding that terribly ticklish spot. God I love the way you move (with me).