Thank you, March! It took you 10 years. I’m not in love.
My top of the list
Head of the heap
King of the hill
… Boop, boop, woopty doo!
I don’t want to run my fingers along your collar bone. I will not re-purpose you either. I’m ready to forget to remember you tomorrow.
P.S. I know you’ll read me. Please, eat your sandwich. Those sad eyes of mine have to go.