I want to get let in and need take any door you leave open or crawl through a window if that’s what I have to do, a burglar looking for the jewelry I know you keep locked up in your safe, taken out for just those special occasions to impress just the right people, only not quite people like me, no formalities, no calling cards to introduce myself with, too rude to even be given access to your porch, let along what I might find hidden under your Victorian finery. In my mind, I see what you don’t want men like me to do to you, to see what you would only let more refined me see, pressing my advantage, no pleasing and yet certain you will eventually give in and left me in whatever door I want.
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