Oh Lucius, Lucius . . . I’ve been a bad girl again.
Smoking cigarettes and listening to miss A’s Hush album– and thinking about you.
You know, a lot maybe . . .
Charlotte’s just leaving. You don’t really think she’s funkier than me, do you?
Plus, I think my bum is prettier. Do you like my legs Lucius? What do they make you think of?
Here, hold that thought. Let me take off this shirt.
Now I have a favor to ask of you. I’ve got this sweet little fantasy that’s been eating at me, and I want you to promise to make it come true for me.
I want to draw your portrait, while you read aloud to me from the Modern Library edition of Immanuel Kant.
You can do that for me, can’t you? You’re not too busy– pretty please?