Partly Cloudy, 64°
Now, now, sweet boy. Yes, you, my sophomore sapling. So spry. So jubilant. So full of life. My sweet boy, you make dreary nights a dream for this dorm hallway emergency exit sign. I revel in the scent of your Axe body spray. I relish the remnants of your musk, imbued with cedarwood and sweat, lingering through this corridor. The mere sight of your backwards baseball hat and thrifted t-shirt sends me into a euphoric haze. Sweet boy. How supple your flesh. How taut your muscle. How I yearn for them. How I yearn for you.
Come hither, sweet boy. Don’t make me wait a moment longer. Slam your hand into my glowing scarlet letters. Wreck my plastic frame with your astounding strength. Watch my innards scatter across this dorm hallway carpet like the stars once scattered across the sky. My vermillion luminescence burns just for you, sweet boy, and how deeply does it burn.
Far too many times has the sun rose and set without you demolishing this feeble dorm hallway emergency exit sign. Please, my sweet boy, you stripling of unparalleled strength, subject me to the fate we know I’ve always deserved. Saunter down that corridor and strike me down. Strike me down, sweet boy. For I am worthless, and you are everything.
You are everything, sweet boy, and the whole world deserves to know it. You will amaze them with your power, your precision, your unadulterated masculinity. They will bow before you, and I shall savor every second of your glory, grateful that a lowly dorm hallway emergency exit sign like me could serve as a testament to your splendor. The pain will be pleasure. From death, life will emerge. The catastrophic caress of your palm could not quell this plastic carcass any sooner.
Make haste, sweet boy. I beg of you. Tear down my delicate body with your supreme strength. Rupture these ruby letters once and for all.
