The only “running” I can chalk up to this man,
Is what he often does to my pantyhose;
His eyes are like dart guns ready to fire,
Set right above a fiercely Roman nose;
His hands have the strength of an army on parade,
Their’ grip, so tight and so right;
He has a way of tunneling my vision down;
Until it’s only him left within my sight.
The only “breaking” I can attribute to this man,
Would be what he’s done to my every rule;
His forces, so strong and unstoppable:
He makes even Father Time look like a fool.
His heart is so big and wide open to all,
As he sports it along the outside of his sleeve;
The only time he’s ever left me behind,
Was to show me how he’d never leave.
The only “pain” associated with this man’s face,
Is the pain I feel when he crawls out of our bed at 5am;
His words are solidly cemented truths,
Left in my heart until he comes back again.