Your laughter sounds like a metaphor I have been trying to write down for years.
I find that my future is a blurry photograph taken with an awful camera,
and you're that one filter to make everything just perfect.
You make me want to write poems so sweet the ink on the paper attracts honey bees.
When God made you, the heavens sighed in awe,
He cussed for the first time, gave an angel a high five and said,
"damn, I ate on this one".