>never put sugar in my coffee, unless
i ask you to. its a whimsical science
and its about as accurate as monday
weather.

i dont care for a novel, or a love
sonnet. send me a haiku instead. i
prefer it to the point and with
intent.

accept my insecurity, british spellings,
inability to be spontaneously romantic,
my shitty luck, and an endless supply
of sarcastic remarks.

change “a never” to “an ever”, learn to
read between the lines, realise a good
morning sms means more than 2 hours
on the phone.

adjust your legs to fit my bed, your
hips to match my body’s position. ignore
my roommate, i love the way you moan.
do it again. and loud.

read my lips when i say “i like you”, my
eyes say more than that. play with
my fingers, take my ring and every
poem i write you in.

i dont know if you want to love me,
but here are a few tips.
(just in case.)