I don't remember how many times I have written to you and how many times I have held back. How many nights your thought has crossed my mind, how many days it became a nuisance. I don’t know when you seeped into my marrow and how to get you out of my system, When did your words become a panacea for my sorrows; why, in your absence, I miss them. And I know, no, I know, you can’t be perfect; flaws make a home in the best of us But unreasonably so, (yes, unreasonably so!) I suspect that you’re one of those who, without making a fuss, constantly try to learn from them and grow And it is one those things, you know, that makes the
crotchheart purr, “Well, hello…” (Ahem!) However, as I said above, the operative word, is, of course, ‘unreasonable’ Hoping you are who I think you are does nothing but spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E. Swaying back and forth between want and logic, to be honest, isn’t really that fun So stop pushing the swing, will you? And let me get off this delirious run (Maybe just say you never felt the same. We will chalk it up to a classic case of confusion because FYI some of us are trying to get actual work done!) And your promising aura keeps interrupting my intentions, urging them to want to want some! Since bawling is quite stuffy and longing too devotional, Won't do either but tell you what, it is your fault that I am feeling so emotional But the culmination of this (eloquent) diatribe, dear one is that Love isn’t nice as a pie No, it’s Selfish, Foolish, Unreasonable No matter how many times we try, It clings to you diabolically, slowly becoming utterly indispensable And I wish it were just some common fraction of the life that could be brushed off as an ersatz gospel but very much so like the Pi Love and loving you seems interminably irrational, yet, in the circle of mutuality, threatens to become perpetual.