I want to kiss you.
Like big, fat, kisses. Or angels, Or stars.
Or something, I don't know.
Love poems never make sense to me.
Poets say things like;
Your teeth are flowers
or your eyes are miracles. But you
aren't miracles, or flowers.
Your are some sweet boy with a good smile
and a shaky heart. Come kiss me.
I'm in-love with the miracle of your body-
beside my body.
