Your head lays down on my lap. I watch you, feel you slowly drift to sleep. I don’t whisper in your ear all the words my heart tells me. They are full with boastful egos and little empty mouths.
I watch you, in wonder, pictures from some book, some Gus Van Sant film, my dream a little dream, asleep in my lap. Perfectly wonderful, simply delicious and lovely. I adore you, like banana pudding.