When I dream you're busy thinking of 

Who you can send invitations to,

And my sky clouds and my sun burns down to rain,

My green eyes flash with envy,

Until I see,

You've invited me personally with your smile.

Yes, with your mouth,

The one you eat with,

The one where words have formed 

To say, "I love you,"

The one whose kiss has swallowed me,

You've invited me personally 

With that mouth.

So yes, I guess I'll come,

If I can quit pouting long enough,

And remind myself, it's ok to be me.

I'm jealous, and this is just one of 

The many things you love about me.

-jenn