You smile like the mona lisa. Something's hiding behind that smirk, but I don't know what. Perhaps it's sadness, perhaps it's witty sarcasm. You've got all the velvet toppings, but none of the cakey substance. Lavender and dandelion, you make my apartment smell like a southern female.
Ladies of the south are suppose to be sweet, but not you. Smashing little heartbreaker, you really are so very terrible. Regardless of your actions, I will always come back for more. I know you don't really mean anything you do.