96 Love Island

So, next time, when we’re killing time with Love Island you’ll know not to over-fill the gap left by my idle question with a list of those silver-tongued egos, strutting their smiles across the screen. For future reference the proper answer, when asked who you fancy, isn’t several dozen of the contestants, basking on the loungers. Just imagine I’d given you that response, asking for trouble, I know, but suppose I did, that beautiful dangerous light would be back in your eyes, wild for the first excuse to ignite, daring me to say it again, middle-ground nowhere to be found. We admit it giggling over the thought. As if, right? And yet, there you go, with your whoever they are, thriving on ideals I had carved into my own muscles once, a lifetime since, for all our laughing.