You are my darling,
You are my sweetheart.
You're my love and your father's just jealous.
I can swoon and I can flatter you.
You're the reason the moon hides behind shadows,
Cause it sees you and gets self-concious about it's figure.
When you summit those mountains, you're the reason those fish swim upstream.
You pick those strings better than your brother picks his nose,
And boy does he do it well.
Rug makers idolize you because of how you weave those words.
The ebbing of the ocean is in constant competition with how you swim the tides.
And with all of your multitalented-genius
I wouldn't be surprised if you could calculate the coordinates of the sun while sprinting a marathon But I know you'd just find that
You are sunshine.
Watch out for those boys, chica, cause the line for you is longer than Gamestop's.
If you never understand how well you recited your ABC's that 1st day of elementary school,
I just hope you know...
You make the bees jealous, honey.

I talked to an 77-year-old man who was washing the windows at Pizza Hut today.
He was young and so happy.
He was kind.
And wise.
He was rich.
He had no money.
He had nice eyes.
He was going blind.
He had a beautiful smile.
His teeth were rotten.
His name was Jerome.
And all he wanted to do was help people.
He taught me so much in 6 minutes.

I knocked my knee on the rod under the table.
I put a runner in my tights.
I licked my finger to wash the wound clean.
It stung for only a second.
Then it was as if it never happened.
The ditsy waitress with the blonde bun and bubblegum
was annoying me with the way she wouldn't pick up her feet.
She had a stupid Chinese tattoo on her wrist,
and like most of the world
she thought she could use a band aid as a cover up,
but nothing that obvious stays hidden that long
without being noticed.
And to top it all off, they burnt my tuna melt.

I got weird looks from people who passed,
catching the 50 Shades of Grey title on my book,
disgusted and pondering why
I would ever hold it up in a family restaurant.
The black man was eyeing me up in the corner.
The lady with the pink lipstick in her teeth thought I was erratic and disturbed.
The businessman thought it was merely for attention,
Well
jokes on them,
I did it just to **** them off.

That's when I looked over at you,
You were eating breakfast and a ****** cup of coffee.
It was 4 in the afternoon.
I could see your Captain America underpants
creeping out of your jeans without a belt.
I could see your eyes judging the newspaper headlines.
You seemed almost as unhappy as me.

So I went over and asked if you dropped the pen
I found in my pocket,
and when you didn't even look up at me to respond
I told you it was just a poor excuse to talk to you.
"I respect that,"
you said between bites of your omelet.
You glanced up at me for only a moment,
blue eyes, **** chin
probably expecting me to leave after the prolonged silence,
but I sat there unchanged,
I don't really pick up on social cues.

"You're pretty hot."
I guess neither do you.
I smiled something creepy, because I don't do it that often,
You didn't seem to mind.
Within two minutes you had me laughing,
saying stuff too loud,
and it was the first time
that I think I actually saw myself,
and I don't really even know you
but somehow, insanely
it feels like I already do.

I cant help but privately lament for those who
share that piece of my autograph because
It's a senile old thing
Hardly used and
rarely left untouched by monikers
Composed of four misgiving syllables
And now being sadly echoed
By a dumbfounded lover
Who really should of known better than
to fall in love with a girl
whose names a lie