Be patient if I can't write your poem just yet.
I don't have the need to retell our first night under the exploding sky,
or typically describe the butterflies in my stomach when I first see you walk towards me
There will be poems about your inviting eyes that I yearn to see one last time, and how much I loved the way you used to always pulled me closer
I'd much rather live out stanzas with you than painfully write them out, ball them up and throw them away.
I'd much rather kiss you without telling the world about your taste.
So, please understand if I don't want to write your poem just yet.