I often think about you, it's always in my dreams, where I picture you ******* me and pulling at my seems.
and I gaze at your mouth, and pull my fingers through your short hair, and tickle below your chin, all the while dreaming about one day being your spouse.
we could fit together perfectly, just as if two puzzle pieces, or perhaps like Cinderella in her shoe, or a bunch of closely packed cutlery.
you can be my husband, an eternal commitment we should have, the dying stars can witness our every move, and we can share otherwise single baths.
a pair we shall be, no need for complication, together's all we need, a love story too perfect to just imagine, if only you were with me now.