Saladin Defeats the Crusaders at Hattin

It’s mostly because I’m allergic to gambling – and your presence renders me rambling, stammering, yammering on about something so dumb I realize I’m talking but forget what it was I was aiming to say. Mostly, anyway. I generally do not enter myself in contests with long ends of odds – it’s a practice of saving some face for soon dates; the mattress forgives me, even when I’m late but you wouldn’t, I’m certain. You’re a stained glass window covered by a curtain that no one can see – I am free to watch your draperies ripple in the breeze but try though I may I never see more than a brief peak – a too brief secret scenery, a scandalous river that leaked out to the sea that I would like to be the only one fit to navigate; I wait and wait for rains to wash me there but there’s no moisture in the air. Fire is not random, oh and nor is my despair – the odds are terrible, I swear to you. The window still cannot be viewed. I have aversions to both gambling and knowing I will lose.

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~ by perfectionatrix on January 19, 2012.

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