The 10th love.

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I didnt want to write this. 
And bear in mind, that i'm the one who even wrote a love poem about the postman once, just because he smiled at me.
But now i'm doing it, even though everything i write too much about, tends to fall apart.
I'm already falling- every day i fall for you.
Every day that I talk to you or even just about you, I fall in love with you once again.

Don’t tell anyone, but there’s a fucking romantic deep inside of me (not just because i ate him) and I'm not just talking about fucking on rose petals with candles on the bedside table -
I’m speaking of love letters and diary entries with just your name written down 2849 times.
I dig the way you laugh (about my jokes),
I’m into your smell, your taste and - oh my god your tongue,
I’m attracted to your voice and your words and everything about your mouth and what comes out of it,

And also you’re fucking hot.
But you haven’t burned me yet.
Still, I’m on fire, because I want you.
Now and tomorrow and probably even next week.

Everyone before you spoke to me on some level, but you speak to me in every way.
Even the stupid stuff you say, makes me feel some kind of way,
even if you imitate me and say something “mean” and this horrible feeling hits me for just a second, before I realise that you’re joking, is precious to me and I wouldn’t want to give that up for anything in the world.
So let’s just give it up for the heart that I wear on my sleeve, that is actually somewhere in your pocket right now.

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