you told me
about what you wanted
your future wedding dress,
future kitchen,
future kids to be like.
and I kept thinking
gods, let me be the one
to give it to you.
I never even wanted to get married,
never wanted any children, and
your imaginary kitchen is
positively hideous.
some people want the same things
out of life, but
we absolutely don't.
still, I could settle for a wedding
if it's you across the aisle;
and maybe I want kids, you know,
with your eyes, or at least
your heart, your grace, your forgiveness.
we'll talk about the kitchen.
look, I'm not gonna tell you
"I love you", not yet,
and I'm not writing you more songs,
and I am not wasting more words,
just these, just the once that tell you
whatever you want, it's yours,
if you'll still have me.