He was very cute, I thought, and he had a little black mole just at the right corner of his lips. A beauty mark that would have looked better on a gir..., but it was nice on him too. He had a bit of a blush going on, but not really embarrassed or anything; and he had a nice smile, shy, but sort of cocky too.Nobody had ever asked me out. I mean, Matt and the other guys didn't really count, so forget about them. This was the first time a guy that I didn't hardly even know had asked me on a date.. You can read a fortune upon them and, if you follow the curves, distinguish individual pain. Fingerprints burn and cry and bleed longer, harder than eyes ever could. I wash them daily, my scars and fingerprints. Caress them. Sometimes I see him. Just long enough that he can thrust himself back into my life. Long enough for the wound to be torn farther to add bacteria to the contaminated flesh. I sit in the shower for hours crying the water that consumes me, wrinkles my fingerprints, and pinks. More

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