Alice and Bob

Bob is a wistful piano piece,
Strong and sugar and soul and sleek.
Little do all those pretty girls see,
that good old Bob only wants me.

Bob is a bottle of sparkling wine,
Scented candle, sharp as ice,
Puzzles, chocolate, nineties clubs,
High on hash but low on love.

Bob has a weathered antique guitar,
Strums it slow beneath our stars.
"Think he likes me," "Yes, he does,"
But his hair light brown, his hands too rough.

Bob keeps Teddy, fluffy and pink,
Keeps it secret but not from me,
Peel back petals of stone hard skin,
There shines a velvet heart within.

Bob hates curtains, window blinds,
Dungeons, darkness, smell of fright,
He tastes the rain, soaks in the wind,
Catches a cold then leans into me.

Bob hates shadows and mirrors and clocks-
Chased their wheels his whole damn life.
He wants to go far into space,
paint our love in a brand new place.

Bob hates divas, TV Queens,
Thinks the papers haven't yet seen me,
Mountains, beaches, likes them all,
Says my heart is all he wants.

I sometimes wonder if worlds apart,
I was lost in a daydream chasing the stars.
All my dreams born into reality,
But my reckless heart stayed with Charlie.