Mold Poem by Dame Hedgie

I see you and I want to mold you into the man of my dreams.
I will be the artist and you my beautiful clay.
So raw and rough around the edges,
Then again, so used and worn and dull.

I love the thought of getting inside of you.
I want to pour my rhythm over you.
Heart beat, song beat, spirit beat,
Gentle sways to contour your form with mine.

I really do not know how this sculpture is supposed to turn out.
I seem to make up my mind daily.
One minute I think I want a geometric, logical piece,
And the next I strive for chaos.

I fear that I will never finish this work of art.
I hope I do before my fingers are too tired to press on.
As I get to know more things about you,
My own design is altered to match what I see.

I want to re-create you as a part of my life.
I yearn for your existence to begin with me.
You would be such a marvelous sight to behold,
If I could only realize how perfect you already are.