These Hazy Days

I Just Love You

I remember when you told me
I have a body like a candlestick
And a face like a painted doll's.
You and I were very drunk.
You put your hands on my hips
And told me you loved me.
I smelled like your house.

Yesterday we were doing our
Own busy little things, when
You turned into the bedroom
And found an old diary you'd kept.
It was from last winter.
You'd filled it with poetry for me.
You sounded young, so young.

One poem described loons
Dreaming on the blue water,
And the way you no longer cared
About the fruit flies in your dorm.

Another recounted the day I went
To your orchestra performance.
You saw me in the crowd, sitting
In my mustard-yellow sweater,
And I guess you knew this was it.
I was the one. And you know that
I still am. I don't plan to write any
Brokenhearted rants about you.

Maybe we didn't start out genuine.
Maybe it started out illusionary, or based
Solely off of looks. But it isn't that way anymore.
We trade poems about each other. I see my face
When I look into your eyes.

God, I'm a rambling fool.
I just love you so much.