Wrapped in his arms, so efficiently he made my mind,
That there is nothing I could ever want to be inside in.
Looking at his eyes, not brown but brine,
Adoring my lips made up of forest trees and eclipse.
Still cherishing, perceiving I am an undying myth.
Rubbing my back comforting me,
Peeling off the shell I always carried myself within.
He was something so perfect in my happenings.