Undress.

He asked me if he was the reason I had dressed up. I smiled, but not at him. My head looked down as I lied: “I didn’t dress up.” He smiled, straight at me, head tilted gently to the side: “I wasn’t talking about your clothes.” Then what was he talking about? I looked up, and all I saw was wonder in his eyes, as he said: “I wish I could undress that beautiful soul of yours.”

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