I Want to Spray You All Over

People say our love is wrong. They tell me I'm too dependent on you, that this love is crazy. But they don't understand how I feel about you. They don't know the way you make me feel. Where are these naysayers when I've got the jitters and I'm not feeling right? They're not there to soothe me, they're not there to make it alright.

Nobody but you, lover. No one else will do.

I stare into your sapphire stillness and when the light hits you just so — it's like an Adriatic dream set in azure flames — oh my lovely. My lovely, lovely, liquid-blue lover. They don't know you the way I do.

If I could take you, hold you in my hands, and spray the world with you, I would dear. You know it's true. I would spread the world with your love, and you'd leave the world a better place in the way only you can do. You take the weary, the begrimed, the downtrodden and besmirched, and you dissolve all the ugliness away. What was once brutish and dumb, is born-again at your touch. You take my overcast view and rinse it anew — the world is awash with light — shining through my despair. You make me believe again.

I believe I can baptize all the sins of yesterday away, and even a filthy sinner like me can begin again.

You have restored my faith, aquaean lover.

Oh, I've tried others. Pretenders. Pale shadows. None are so true, none smell quite right. I'm sorry for those moments of weakness — I was captivated for the moment by a cheap imitation, I admit it. Their acrid stench followed me wherever I went and I knew it was wrong. Oh it felt wrong. They left me feeling dirty, like a film of sin remained wherever they touched.

There will never be another, you know it's true. You make the anxieties and worries go away — you make our home a shelter.

I love you, Mr. Cerulean, ultramarine lover. Blue like the blue of foreign seas, blue like the summer skies of childhood, blue like the blue of heaven. Blue speaks to me of truth and beauty, there is no other color for you.

If I could, I would spray the world with you.

If I could, I would spray you all over me, baptizing myself, leaving behind a squeaky clean soul, a reflective heart and a streak-free mind.

You are the Original, Windex. I want to name my babies after you. Babies with lapis lazuli eyes.

Brillo Sin Rayas! Brillo Sin Rayas!

I hear you whisper in my dreams.