June 4

You  said that the path between the greeting and the freaking is vague in which most get lost. 

And that’s my fault I failed to sweep you off your feet when the last one got lost. But I was attached to another love in which I had to emancipate from. 

That was a lesson learned, now I can major in your aesthetics in which I never plan to graduate from.

It is my ultimate desire to acquire an associates in your smile and a bachelors of arts in your ambitions. 

It is my oblige to worship in your mirage and to be the captain of your vision. We can cruise through blues if you over look my flaws and accept my intentions. 

Understand that everything is not going to be blue skies in the sun, but I’m willing to sit through bull shit 101 if you’re willing to relax and have some fun. 

I am so attracted to your eyes they could never lie nor deny they way you feel when we touch.

I further more aspire to accumulate a masters in the depth of your mis-eduacation.

A PHD in the annual renewal of the registration to your heart. 

In my hands it will never expire even in the unlikely event that we part. But there is no way we can part if we avoid sexual desires to hinder the process of learning one another from the start. 

I long to obtain any more information about you. I’m fascinated by the nonchalant attitude that you carry. 

I swear I have never seen a woman in simple blue jeans resemble Hallie Berry. 

I am amazed by the way you wear your face. 

It happens to be most beautiful in the early morning, before the sun takes his place. 

And if I am forced to gradate for you, It would have to be in heaven where other angels could appreciate the beauty in the simple things you do. 

It has never been my desire to make a cameo in your life, it is my intent to solely brand three letters on your chest, and allow your heart to decipher the rest. 

So that one day, I will be promoted from the student to the professor, giving our offspring a lesson on how much of a blessing you are to me. 

On which flowers to pick you on a Sunday in May, while we grow old together and I’ll further watch you blossom. 

We all improve in time, and from the cocoon I dedicate my life to watching my butterfly grow. 

I want to cherish you old fashion, young people have a tendency of doing it in reverse, skipping right over the dating and start sexing one another first.

I am more than willing to wait for the rest of my life to make love to you, if it means that I have the pleasure of mixing my tooth brush with yours, and leaving my clothes in our drawers for an eternity. I only want to study in your love, a course I never plan to completely graduate from.