Those days when I want to scream
all the things I’ve ever thought of you
how I love the things that you think
and how I hate those things you do

I include myself in the second
because I can’t comprehend
why I make a half decent lover  
Much less,an excellent friend

your kisses, your breath, your bed.
Like the movies Mom didn’t allow
not expressively pornographic
just far too romantically avow

I lay awake in this bed of mine
I only sleep with you by my side
we’ll pull the covers over our heads
and from the world we’ll both hide