I love to waste my time with you,
counting the freckles on your back.
So nice to do nothing sometimes
when spare time is lacking.
I love to talk to your for hours
about nothing and everything,
since nothing to you is everything to me.
I wish I could waste more time with you,
but I'm such a busy bee
and you are so undecided -
the definition of 'undefined'
that I hesitate to allow myself
any reason to see more of you than my heart can afford.
Too much of anything is a bad thing
and you are a drug I should take in moderation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem