I often think of you, especially on lonely nights, when I can’t sleep. When I stay up all night crying, grasping my pillow the way I clutched my mothers abdomen after she came home from her minimum wage 9-5 dead end job supporting my dead beat father who didn’t give a s*** about us. But forget him, he’s gone now. Now we’re talking about you. You with eyes so bright, you could make a blind person see. You’ve got teeth so white, egg shells would be jealous. You are my clouds on a sunny day because you know I like the rain. Your cheek bones look so sharp and distinguished you’d think they could cut like a knife yet your face is so smooth, silk couldn’t compete. Hugging you is the closest thing to heaven I’ve got, just being in your arms, tangled around me like your headphones after you pull them out of your pocket. I nuzzle into your neck and I know you can feel my breath because I feel a tremble go through your body. And you hold me tighter and I laugh. You put your hands under my chin and have me look in your eyes and you smile. I’m paralyzed by the beauty of sheer happiness. Your hearts against my chest, I can feel your heart beat speed up, a hummingbird trapped inside your chest, surrounded by your soft red velvet blood, pumping, rushing through your lovely veins. I can sense your fingertips tracing lines between my beauty marks and my scars, as you investigate and interrogate the cut lines left from self harm hatred, a layer of salty relief coats your eyes. Silence. You cry, “why?” But when I think back before I had you, everything’s a blur. I can’t quite remember every reason why I picked up a razor and thought, ‘go for it.’ I haven’t thought about taking a razor to my flesh since you’ve come along. But now I don’t ever want to think the way I used to. Now I’ve got your smiles as sweet as gumdrops and hands warm like bonfires. A voice, smooth and deep like dark chocolate, you can serenade me with a simple sentence. You are my muse, my soul and my spirit. Most of all you’re mine and I’m yours and I know slavery was abolished in 1865 but baby I’m a slave for you. I can say as many cliché metaphors and similes as there are people on this earth but they’ll never compare to you, to how great you really are. Your laugh rings like wind chimes in the cold wind. I love just sitting and listening to you breath, especially when the room is silent. I love it when you hum sweet, low melodies of songs unknown, yet to come as your fingers trail across my bare shoulder blades, sending a cascade of shivers up and down my spine, and your famous smirk would creep on your lips. I’d like to say you’re wrapped around my fingers but baby I’m wrapped around yours and if a smile could cause an earthquake I’d be San Francisco. I could never think of a more perfect life than a life with you. I used to be addicted to making wishes on 11:11 and birthday candles, but I’m not superstitious anymore. All the luck in the world brought me you. If I had the chance to capture a leprechaun and get the gold and gems at the end of the rainbow I wouldn’t take it. Your eyes are the only gems I need. You’re better than gold or anything it could bring me. I’d rather be poor, broke, homeless, smelly, and with you than rich, clean and lonely. You are my alibi, I want to see you where the heaven meets the sky with the ocean below us, wishing us farewell as we sink into eternity. Oh yes, I can feel your hands against my thighs now, your fingers tap rapidly, you’re playing the piano now. As you play fictional melodies, you tell me you love me. Do I believe you? Yes I do. Do I love you? Yes I do. Nothing’s ever felt more right than loving you. It’s true, I’m a fool for star crossed love, your star crossed love, baby.