When I think of you
You’re the ideal idea
You’re everything I need
But nothing I think I want

When I try to sleep
And imagine you breathing beside me
I think of affection and humor
You’re a balm to soothe
Not a love to consume

We are not in love or lust
There is no burning need
Just patience, comfort
Body heat for a security blanket

Our hands do not fit together
Not two halves of a whole
We’re broken pieces
Odd socks and lost pen tops
We don’t match but we suffice

You don’t fill the empty parts of me
Which gives me time with myself
You’re the ideal idea
The half smile on a dull day

I have no unrequited love
No heartache
Only the knowledge what perhaps
Just maybe
I’m not dead after all