by Douglas Gilbert
Sometimes you make me feel magical and
I love how you think I have
a beautiful way of doing things.
Sometimes for a microsecond I feel perfect, and
you seem perfect to discuss a symphony and sing with me.
Maybe there’s a perfection cake to taste together, and
I’d share the strawberries with you.
Many times you seem perfect for the moment, but
I can’t promise any feeling is reality; I can only say
I love the moment, love how
I imagine you as if we could be quirky perfect.