An Old Man Falls In Love

All right, I admit it. It's hopeless, and I have no shame. Fact is that I may say what ever I wish, listen back without a reddened countenance, shed all compunction, even modesty if my accoutrement begins to interfere. Yes, I am smitten; the hours disappear when we are face to face. I'm lavish when the passion flows; heat best serves emotion as it cools. Manipulation with my fingers only shows that I'm aware of all the tools progressive schools of thought may teach the tender-aged as well as touch the ones of aged tenderness. And of my lips? Well, not so much; they cannot perfectly express my ardor now. This autocratic ancient lover finds himself content to have technology supply the object of his worldly desire-- this computer is his one and only paramour, inamorata, fire. ~