This love,one that has found me from way far
found me like a needle in stacks of hay.
What i feel for him is not bizzare, but
gut filled with butterflies waiting to sway.

We are different inside and out, yet
our emotions run wild without a leash.
I know deep inside he does not regret
and so, is this love really meant to be?

He is as fragile as a china doll.
His skin as smooth as a baby's bottom.
His gentle voice replies when i call "Paul."
Delicate hands soft as bedsheet cotton.

His presence relieves my burden of cold.
This love, one that I will always behold.