Count

I could count the milliseconds until the end of days.
(I really could. I have my ways.)

I could count the times we should have kissed.
Just think of all those chances missed.

I could count the cells in your body and the hair on your head.
(That’s less romantic, because it’s dead.)

I could count the moments stolen and the moments lost.
I could count and count, but find no cost.

But I think I’d rather count on you.
That you’ll be the one to get me through

All the humdrum and the everyday.
Because I could climb the tallest mount,

Just as long as I could count,
That when I’m lost, you’re never far away.