I could be cliche
And give you empty compliments
Strung together with the same words
That past lovers have used
But past lovers have come and gone
And I will make you mine
Without letting the words
Cute
Hot
Pretty
Beautiful
Drip off my tounge
Because I will not waste
Your time with these words
Whose letters contain nothing
My love for you is contained
In the twenty-seventh letter
of the alphabet
In a place
We know not of
(MTH 2/2/2014 8:43pm)