An Open Letter to My Ideal Harry Styles

Wonder what it would be like to be with someone like you

Never mind the morning drives
Getting flaky pastries from the local bakery

The way your Beethoven-like hair is against skin
Tracing every fiber - running, twisting and pulling

Never mind the ink running down your torso
The way it holds so much stories or maybe even none at all

The way your deformities were made to be perfect
To cap off that cheeky grin you wear so well

Never mind these subtle descriptions of you
Because who am I
That you can poetically describe, too?

P.S. You don't know I exist