So for awhile i've had this slight obessesion with a camera. Her silver body with all the right curves, 10 megapixels of pure beauty. Everytime i go into Ritz Camera to pick up my prints, she whistles at me like a crack whore from her spot on the second shelf behind the glass.
"Alison baby, take me home, ill do things to you...."
"naw" i say,
I look at her longingly from the line as she dances on a pole in front of me- shaking her goods side to side. I stand there, bills in my hand ready to tip her and hopefully bring her home. But the
For monthes i pick up the Ritz camera sales quarterly, scanning the pages like a dirty magazine. Cutting out pics and hanging them on my mirror- 'one day ill have you, just you wait. Imma rescue you from the Decatur store and we can live together and frolick in the hills...'
i pick up my prints and turn around for one more glance of her. She winks at me
next time baby,
next time
*i learned from summer the strikethrough
*I learned from jalylah the importance of astericks at the bottom of the post
















