Says I to the Boy to be in Butt

My eyes meander a willow the wisp's twisting trail across the swampy-humid living room. Eventually they come to rest upon my blue eyed guy. Upon briefest scrutiny he glances back and pointedly says he, "What?"

Says I, "May I not gaze upon the manly visage of lover mine? May my proclamations of passion go forever not whispered, if only I may sneakest the briefest of peeks upon thine shiny forehead and shaggy whiskers."

And says I, "May the Heavens cry torrents of tears to flood every plain, valley and moor, if not the slightest of glimpses allowed am I to be blessed by your slightly larger than normal ears and cavernous, gaping pores."

And says I, "Remind you may I, the hairiest of warts upon our first date did I mistake, and being so foolish assumed did I that deformed were you with noses two?"

And says I, "May you look under foot. For buried in God's green Earth do hide such filthy, dirt caked, crawling things as to not rival your own sodden hide and odor spiced like opossum baked upon a black tar road."

And says I, "You're the most beautiful creature ever I've known."

And says he, "Sweetie, you're stoned."