Im always conscious of your ten fingers
nine in the morning and that touch still lingers
you're the eight ball that conquers me
if you fall
seven days of the week
I faintly hear you speak
for the six missed calls
id **** to return them all
the five stars in the sky id multiply
just to get you by
four walls never felt so strong
when they reflect what you speak as a song
those three words always felt so true

two
Is better than *one