Waking up next to you...(Next to you on the other side of the wall)--it's like having the pleasure of wrestling...you and I know...smoking our Luckys. They say true love is hard to find. Do I disagree? Debatable.

Bent backwards all squirmishly excited, like crawling out of bed trying not to wake you; I tiptoe alone trying not to wake the awareness of my heart.

It's 62 degrees. I don't want the temperature to change. I don't want you to know how I sneak around, childlike defiance, from your tower like arms as they pull me toward you, biting my bottom lip in painful restraint.

Have you the power of willful observation? OR must I unfold my tablecloth of mysteries onto your platform of subconscious questions? You say it's the idiosyncratic quirks emitted from the character of your puppetry that motivates your love. Not pinpointed. Not deserved. Naturally silly and beautifully obsessively compulsive--even to a breaking point. But where do you study? Personally, I've never heard the lectures on your discoveries. Have you written this alleged dissertation or does the research remain to be fulfilled?

Do not arouse or awaken love until she pleases, I tell myself. Let love develope naturally, do not force it. Oh dammed patience. Oh poor me. ha ha.