Darling, you’re fantastic.
I love you,
You know,
And I don’t say that lightly.
On the nights
(Like tonight)
Where sleep doesn’t find me,
I am consumed by you
In lieu of dreaming.

On the days
(Like today)
When I see you, hold you, kiss you,
I’m giddy, dizzy, happy,
And it’s all because of you.
My idiotic grin?
Entirely your fault,
You beautiful creature.

When I write poetry,
(Badly, sloppily,
Freely, openly)
It’s a window to a world
Populated by people
I’d mostly just like to forget.
(Or such is the norm,
But here, we find
The exception.)
But when I create,
When I sculpt, assemble, paint,
You are my muse,
My inspiration.

My cheesy, worn-out, affectionate clichés?
Those are your fault, too,
You marvelous ****.