Neither is my hair long, or curly
As you said you’d like;
Nor is my eye whirly, or mazy
That you would like to ride,
The lip is still dry, and dead,
And that above it scratched.
Still, life goes on and what passes
Doesn’t come back the same-
I’d like you come for me,
And smile as the sprouts of spring,
And all the time remember
That I am mean, only for you.
But I would grow the blacks on me
Long and long, and curls on them,
Turn my eyes blue,
Like your world’s ocean,
And turn my insides as you’d mould.
I know,
Still my waters would be salty;
But look around for the flowers,
And the bees hovering over:
Its not always what you take you give.
I would love you forever,
More than I’ve ever done altogether
While attending the peaks so high
With a note and quill
Between these slender sticks.
My words still be trivial
To explain what that’s inside.
But rather see you filled in those arms,
Your lips feel the touch,
And your heart pound against some other,
I would like to be the one,-
The one you love.
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