an ode to hiddles

[InTomHiddleston'sPants]

Every day I think of him

My heart to serve his every whim

On the floor he lies, draped in lace

Reaching out my heart does race

 

Sounds of thunder I do hear

Beneath my skin, my heart turned queer

Count to sixty my mind twists and fiddles

As I bear my love for dearest Tom Hiddles