sam your hair is like a blood orange and your eyes still huge in the morning- im sorry-

 
 
 
 
your lips are too soft  
your skin a vellum canvas  
stick and poke hieroglyphs  
keys to your secret code  
if only i could read you  
 
could i  
(please)  
kiss every bit of your freckled face  
live in the fire of your hair  
the smell of you  
the taste  
 
would i burn  
 
you blushed like a doll when you came for me  
 
 
hate that i have to hurt your pride  
just a little  
but i cannot be so much to you  
 
you are too good for me  
 
i have a boy waiting