But

Me? Corny? No. But... ... ... I dream that I could go to war simply so a picture of her is nestled in my top shirt pocket at all times. I'm still not corny, man. But... ... ... I fill my mind with thoughts of entering Noah's ark with her for a (150 day) date Hand in hand As a pair of anteaters (makes long-distance kissing easier) I'm still not corny. But... ... ... I sometimes hope that I need a blood transfusion from her every 42 days so that I can always have a piece of her with me at all times. I'm not corny. But... ... ... But everyday, Without fail I pray that one day at the ripe age of 70 I could herd my grandchildren around my chair so I could explain every little thing that she did that would humble even Frane Selak, Only for her to come in and yell "You left the dishes, again" in that hypnotizing voice that I know all too well to which we all will erupt in laughter and-and-and.... Ok. I'm corny. Damn it.