I think about you all the time
But something's always in the way
Imagination chaperone
swooping in to save the day
filling in what's not amiss,
leaving every room for doubt
in pictures of you on my mind -
always in your modesty,
with nothing left remotely out -
I wouldn't ask for any more.
I can't imagine any less.
Some things are past imagining
Which in my view, is for the best.
Or could be, anyway. At least,
to try, we must be very wise.
I'm picturing you naked, now
and looking at your eyes.
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