You are every love song on my ipod. The cheesy and hopelessly in love ones. A smile escapes everytime I push On Repeat button. I do like you, on repeat, till Mr. Darcy gets tired of Elizabeth. Even so, I probably still like you.
It's funny how the summer breeze reminds me of your curly brown hair, unruly by the wind, as my hands touch it right before your lips meet mine. It's funny how my heart still skips a beat whenever your warm arms welcome me home. Your presence promises warmth and safety, just like a cup of coffee does. Your laugh is contagious, as if I'm part of your happiness. Your eyes are sweet and sour like mango sorbet in June. How come you embody my favorite things? Is there no way for my mind to escape from you?
You can't be that perfect. But if I always find a reason to come home to you, can I drop my anchor and leave the ship?
Can I, not be, out of love again?
This song is perfect
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