All the pretty summers getting a little dark
Reminiscent on all the girls who broke his heart
Battered and bruised by another battle scar,
Misjudged your heart;—pretending to know who you are

Locking demons, next to the skeletons in a closet
Questions of how he does it; to snip away time like
picking up girls with pretty flowers.
Knowing roses aren't always a pretty red, but the blood
stains of picking them up by their thorns
All their beauty and sounds, carefully arranged like poems

But he started off as the caterpillar before meeting
her butterfly kisses. Words flying high in air, and losing
breath complementing his Mrs.
Describing her by fruit shapes,— cherry cheeks,
a pineapple hairdo, and two plump peaches
Always treating you like a baby, and calling you cute
for giving her baby boy kisses

A little Miss info, the only one for you; dishing out info
by a saucer, at times over your head like a UFO
But you didn't know her dirt, even as you were down to Earth
a terrestrial, inhabiting this relationship often being absurd

             ...baby boy, it's been a while since you've kissed a girl