I think of you in the same second
as i think of old benches, rain clouds
and French kissing in thunder storms.

I never framed your name with hearts,
or wrote it in pink swirly letters, 'cause
somehow you're worth more than that.

(you always lived in the present,
so that's where you truly belong,
and though you never gave me an
”iloveyou”, I'll give you a chance)

My memories of you and I belong
to silent talks in the middle of the night,
about the way your skin looks pale compared to mine
(and they belong to the sound of
racing heartbeats and sweet sighs.)

They belong to the way you don't need
something as simple as words, to tell me
you care (your eyes told me that secret eternities ago)

There's just something about the way
you can't keep yourself from touching me,
even it's just tickling my shoulder
or tracing my lips with an index finger.

I never understood how you do what you do,
but you make life seem simple and
you make us seem to be
pieces in a perfect puzzle.

I think of you quite a lot, you see,
you've sort of invaded my world
I know I told myself not to get in too deep,

but I never wanted anyone
as badly ever before.

So, please darling,
keep whispering sweet words in my ear,
I don't even care if they're lies anymore,
I just want happiness, (I want you)
and some day, you'll see why.