I'm out voyaging in girl looks. Roaming from club to bar, looking for scandals, eyeing for some peacocks. Colorful ones. Nice build, thick, pleasantly stout, and big eyed. Why? Ask my scabs. My punctuation marks on my skin. They cover my left arm like leprosy, following my vein lineage like cobblestone. I always look to them when I need an answer and I'm always adding more.