No, you can't have me. I barely have control over myself a good 87% of the time. But we can certainly enjoy each other and make promises we probably won't keep, but will mean them like if they were sworn in cement. I'll do my best to leave the imprint of my lips on that soft spot right above your rib cage, and the touch of my fingertips permanently branded into the waves of your hair. I'll text you half-poems that I write on the subway while I'm thinking about you. I won't forget you. Not once.