Soul, Wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost indeed -- But tens have won an all -- Angel's breathless ballot Lingers to record thee -- Imps in eager Caucus Raffle for my Soul!
My lips are wet and ready but I'm a terrified sixteen-year-old girl. His hair is a curly jet black that matches handsomely with his pale freckled face. As he leans in, I'm wide-eyed with giggles falling from my mouth. Now his eyes look sad and hurt because he's a sixteen year old boy. My mind is void except for the fact that I'm not ready for this. I won't be ready for six more years.