Dear Lover,
Look, my vagina really likes you. As for the rest of me, I cannot speak on the subject. To admit that any other part of me shows even the slightest hint of a preferred inclination for you over others, would be implying that I have feelings for you. I had the chicken pox when I was three and acne when I was sixteen. I had no real opinions at the age of three, but at sixteen, when reality was becoming real, my claim was always Deny, deny, deny. I’d rather not recognize another disease.
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