Time should mean more to me,
I know.
I shouldn't write about what I've barely
come to understand,
but you, my love,
make words so easy
music so sweet.

Chivalry isn't exactly dead, not yet
and I can't help but think about
properly courting you,
stealing kisses when our escort isn't
paying attention
or writing you disgustingly cheesy love letters
that sound nothing like me.

Despite the short time
I've known you,
I catch myself thinking
about what it might be like.
If the world would be so kind
if Fate wouldn't intervene
if I could get to keep you.
My own little slice of paradise,
of heaven.

I must confess I'm not much of a
believer in what I can't see or feel
but you
pop questions into my head
abut even that.
How can there not be
something inherently pure and good
when you're with me?
How can I not believe
that we were meant for something more
when you feel so right?

Our lives have not been fair,
this I know.
But I think my hardship
might have been worth it
if they brought me to you.