I’d like to count your blemishes.
You could get me off on well wishes.
And I could die and feel bliss.
And you’d laugh.
And I’d smile.
I’d like to touch your insides.
Feel what you felt when you cried.
And you’d have no place to hide.
And you’d fall
In me for a while.
I’d like you to make me a honest man.
But honestly that’s how it’s always been.
And I’ve never been one to just give in.
Our whole nine yards.
House and a child.
