I love you more than olives, green or black
Every ode I make will always lack
It's just not possible to tell you right
It's one of those things you decide to write
My words seem so foolish and immature
But I know I am so completely sure
You are my best friend, my love, and my mate
The perfect, my mind could never create
Still, I let you live without me, lonely
I dream of you next to me, if only
I miss your smell, and even more, your touch
Holding me in your arms, I love so much
I can sacrifice my favorite food
For you, my love, on any magnitude
Anything would be simple for my love
Nothing I know, would be too far above
6/3/13
YOU ARE READING
Until then
PoetryI live with a mathematical, logical mind, but tend to be immersed in emotion. The imbalance can both prosper and hinder me. with love, b 1987-until then...
