Lessons on the Bull - 2

# my heirophant stranger

as far as i can remember, it was my tuition teacher's daughter who had confessed to the existence of 200 grams of her feelings for me in the 250 grams of her little heart through a love note smuggled to me through mutuals, but instead, it was her best friend who caught my eye; back then, pilani fever was upon me and her eyes were too scattered for me to try to gather them, and so, i let oblivion do its thing;

fast forward five years, and here i was, my lil' boy boner having fully grown and here she was, her beautiful feet giving off lust pheromones:

( bulls have delicate beautiful feet to nurture the earth they walk on )

i guess twin flames do call out to each other just by the way fate caused us to cross paths:

a bull in every right, she knew how to bring a fight, her halo in my eyes growing all the more brighter every time she did that, revealing to me a stubborn bull wanting to be touched and caressed, a stubborn bull who perhaps dreams of holding hands in public but is too brain-washed by cliches, a stubborn bull who underestimates the early-spring-pine-tree scent of her breasts and the old-church-wooden-kneeler aroma of her crotch, a stubborn bull who is too proud to admit defeat:

( bulls hate admitting defeat, not because they have evil in them but they feel a lot of hurt in their soft hearts )

nevertheless, i love her for who she is, although the bruised scales on my merman's fin tell a different story:

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