I would say I don’t think about you when I’m not with you;
But that would be a lie...
You’re my favorite high;
The way I keep myself dry;
What I look for in the sky;
The event I go to, Black Tie;
Who watches when I drip dry;
And the thing that will always catch MY eye;
Anytime, any place would I be your fall guy;
Because you’re just... great.
A jones for a taste I can’t satiate.
A prime investment in some real estate;
Like a gallon of water to my cottonmouth;
The road less traveled to get down south;
The only travel kit I’d ever need;
The shovel to plant my seed;
A song, unsung, yet freed;
The greatest book written to read;
A separation of "me" into "us"
The singular being superfluous;
Because everything I’ve ever needed and wanted is wrapped up in a neat package of joy and an embracement of life, and I’ve never felt more at home with one person, and probably couldn’t.
But all that aside,
I do so want to ride
This brilliant tide;
Crashing so high and dry
By my side...
then cuddle.And would wade the muddle Of that dirty ass puddle We create for us to get to you. Doesn’t matter what happens to my shoes. Because walking through mud is just what I’m good at.........