If you could love me, I would crawl under your skin and I would heal your wounded heart, your wounded eyes, your feverish mind. I would put good memories in favor of those which won't let you go further. I could box everything that went bad in your brain so that you forget and move one. Love comes and goes, God, I know, but memories are forever and some of them are harmless, but there are some that will never let us go on unless we put them away.
I love you now, but tomorrow I may not.
If you let me, I could kiss you ever so gently on the lips, on the forehead, on your chest and tell you, from all my heart, that you're a fool and then laugh because I could see it in your eyes that you were expecting other words, something that would make your heart pound.
Nonsense? No, I think it makes sense. Perfect sense.
