transparent reactions regarding an oblique question

is “if i could love you so much […]” a coy portrayal of one’s sentiment—an offer, perhaps, to communicate the vulgarities of the heart with a diminishing five second snapchat of some juggs—or an earnest question riddled, or at least bound, by logistical (or shall we say rational) contingencies i.e. this would be impossible

“in [my] private time” seems like a distraction, a floral insertion, from what’s at stake, namely, the preceding phrase in which you asked me about love. for all my time is private, and lest you think it’s romantic, i must concede such time includes mainly tater tots and syndications of who’s the boss?

would this belief in “you believed you were a lesbian” remain a dormant bi-curious consideration, or be corroborated with actual sexual acts, for in the latter case, as a male, i cannot technically act as a lesbian would, unless you casually mean sex w/ a woman (from an intrinsic male POV, or course); or, are you simply trying to confuse me?

the happiness you close with is a formidable invention of the mind which has adverse effects on the soul—and by that i mean the roller coaster of ligands tugging neurons into surrender—for no person can seriously feel happy away from the scissor lock of warm legs, the late morning light scanning goosebumps like braille, ones risen under sudden feeling, clasped by the ankle by a final gasp