Don't fall for what you can't handle.

I find the right words, sometimes. You've told me I always know what to say but I know better than that.

Sixty-two plus four is sixty-six. Twist your fingers into a mix we'll see tomorrow just to fix that little window; it's jammed and it's broken. For three leagues I'll smile and for twenty more I'll laugh. We'll share a lollipop and then I'll ask if you have genital herpes in your throat. We'll laugh for six more leagues and then contemplate the question of whether we exist. But do we care now, when the stars are so much brighter when we look into each other's eyes?