eight.

I need a body to cling to.
A pair of ears to sing to.
Some hands to hold my heart, it’s heavy.
Some eyes to trust when I grow wary. 
A voice to tell me what I’m made of.
Arms to block what I’m afraid of.
I need someone to give my Sunday mornings to.

I can’t wait to meet the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.

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