To My Future Wife

Hey pretty lady, don't keep me waiting, it wouldn't be overstating to say I've been anticipating your tantalizing, poetry inspiring, love without requiring the complete rewiring of my never tiring synaptic firing Prefrontal  Cortex wondering what's next, perplexed by your subtext under this context, wondering if rough sex is what's next but, what's best, locking my chest and heading west to new suns setting, betting, that soon I'll be jet-setting to destinations exotic out in the tropics wearing dark optics with you by my side taking life in stride not having to hide or be despised for failing cause I tried and I have you to confide my deepest confessions, my hardest lessons, while we lay back in a smoke session, giving me the impression that I should make the suggestion that what I would like is for to stay not just the for the night but, for the rest of my life, this is to my future wife...