I could tell you that I want you, I lust after you, I need you, I crave for you, I dream of you, even that I love you.
But I have written all that; and more.
And besides, it means nothing, as no difference can be made.
You do not even know this heteronym. You think I am a living woman. A blogger. A frustrated writer. A sentimental diarist.
Whereas in actual fact I am the man that is in awe of you.
Iris
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