You make me want to write
stupid little poems
about how you wash my hair
better than I do.
Or about how I can't sleep
when I'm without you.
Or about how sometimes
you carry me wherever we're going to.
Because I guess,
I think its pretty cool.
And you're pretty cool.
And this is all sort of magic.
But that doesn't mean
it makes good poems.
But like everything
in my life, my notebook
is filled with you.