Loving you is like lifting a spoon to my lips it's bowl full of ice cream sugar and milk sweetly, softly melt upon my tongue each mouthful reducing in wonder the taste eventually forgotten until my porcelain vessel lays empty in my hands and I ache for more but my imagined aches harden into reality as my body reacts in horror at the offering I have brought its enemies
Just as when your face is no longer present to grace my vision I long for your return, yet realize how utterly vain is my infatuation for you Let it go . . . I wonder if it would be stupid to anonymously send this dude a poem about him.