Whilst we had that pavlova frosting on our lips and noses,
I had a Pavlovian reaction that made me gasp.

I like you.
I fancy this gorgeous, wide-eyed, laughing boy
who has the kind of notes in his laugh that makes me fundamentally
agree
with the very fact,
it is okay to laugh at myself.

This utterly imperfect being looking like he does not give a ****
is
colouring
my soul
yellow.

And my lips could never say more Thank you s onto the Cupid's bow of his lips.

For, he taught me how to be happy by myself, with only my shadow in sunlight.

To colour in the blank edges of soul with something a little gorgeous and a pinch of something rather

*different.