A beat's folks. I don't care. Besides the fact, it's you. You don't. With your loneliness. Back, sweat, tingles, moist. Revealed! Poisonous loving caring cold heartless dancing beats of a chicken? Someday kisses. Dancing....

Okay, okay. It's too much. Why can't you afford it? Simplified. Objectified. Dignified fighter. Chrysanthemum. Kiss the vibrations of the earth. We can dance all night till the sun is bright and the sky turns green and purple and orange and the light hits your eyes like the sparkles of the glowing sun. Three hundred years later we frolick into the sea and kiss and laugh. The giant enormous eyes, your face, your style, your laughter. Dare I say your heart too? Alas, no cold hearted bitch. Grudgy pudge. What am I waiting for? 

There he is. 

Jaime shuffles up to the person, scratching his head

"What are you smoking, and do you have any left?"

Petra was surprised a young man was bold enough to approach her. Leaning against the brick paved alley wall, she flicks over the wispy smoke of a joint to him. 

"Try it. You may like it." 

I was pretty surprised when you walked up. I was rehearsing a poem for an amateur play. I guess the other guy was wasted, so you can just randomly take a hit. You're pretty well dressed, I don't see why not.