There are two different kinds of hopeless romantics
One keeps their romance behind padded walls
So others don't know what's going on

The other one is me
Who parades one openly
Hoist's her gracefully
On a cheribum seat feathered in gold
With a microphone in mine hand
Screaming

She's mine mi amour'
She's mine
She's mine queen
Leaveth her alone thou scowling dog's....

As tis I may maketh her embarrassed
During this process

She shalt thank me later
Privately behind those padded walls..

With an angel kiss
Upon mine wearied cheek...

she loved quickly
slipping into it like her favorite pair of pajamas
and he's the night
crisp and cool and right.
when the moon rose
with its shining silver light,
she realized for the first time
she loved him.
not just for who he was
and the way his heart changed hers,
but for every shortcoming
every tattered flaw and heavy load,
she loved him.
she wanted him.
and even though they weren't together
she knew that loving him wouldn't end
that every day when she woke
his name would be resting on her lips
and her love would only increase
day by day
until they were together again.

Warm.

Your warm body, an exact mirror copy of your plump lips that kiss my mouth, I lay my head upon your chest, thighs, back, shoulder, any area where I believe I could sink into you and become enveloped in your supple, sweet, indulgent body.

Your body was the first I felt comfortable in. Your body is the only body I feel safe in. When I crawl into my place in the corner of your shoulder and your chest I hear your heartbeat slow, and I feel your breathing pace but when your arm grazes my shoulder my heart races and I do not know why.

Your illusive brown eyes, see they were not brown after I got close enough to see, your eyes were the darkest shade I had seen until you allowed me to graze the skin of your face and I was absorbed by the brilliant green that took me by surprise. How did I not notice the eyes before me? These eyes so unlike what I had learned before, I assumed you had to have known magic to preform such an illusion.

Your warm heart.

This heart that you allowed me to caress, allowed me to kiss, allowed me to love. This heart is what I am reaching for when I sink into your body, searching for my safe within your chest, my strength within your shoulder, my passion within your thigh, I am always searching for the things you allow me to feel. And you lead me to them every time. You've never allowed me to look in the dark, without your guiding hands, I still do not understand how you walk so calmly in the dark, I swear if must be magic, some amazing illusion.

I'm ******* tired and
I don't want to mix people's ******* drinks
I don't want to direct plays for ******* kids at camps.
I'm just ******* tired,
and I'll always be ******* tired,
so I'd rather at least be ******* tired while
I'm pruning vines with you.

Then we can drink wine
and sleep together
for three more months.

Sounds glide,
graze against your lips,
and in the tides of words get washed.
Words that are honest, but
too ****
BIG
for the
time we have left,
so

SPIT.