You had me.
When expansive blue eyes met the warmth of brown,
when light met the darkness, day versus night.
It was twilight, the purple haze of daylight slipping into the dark of night.
I slipped into you flawlessly;
falling in love was easy.
You had me.
When you said my name for the first time
and the sound of it dripped off your tongue like honey.
It was so sweet.
You were so sweet.
You spent an eternity saying my name
just so you'd make me say yours.
You had me.
When we spent that summer sitting in your car,
you know the one.
The one with one working speaker and the passenger door that stuck.
I had to climb in through the window
and you called me your Daisy.
The Rolling Stones fluttered away in the warm summer breeze
and even though it was hot outside
we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.
As the sun fell down,
your hand slid up my thigh.
You had me.
Everything was how it should be,
everything and nothing made sense.
You had me, and that fact stood in between what made perfect sense
and what I didn't understand at all.
