Litany Imitation

This is written for my boyfriend. I have added a lot of inside jokes so I apologize if some of it doesn't make sense:

You are the blueberry and the muffin,
The trailerhome and the gnome.
You are the creamer in my coffee
and the spirit of a buffalo.
You are the Celine Dion of music,
and the Burt's Bees to my chapped lips.

However, you are not the furby in my closet,
the sandy bellybutton,
or the evil Ice King.
And you are certainly not the Lewiston-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the Lewiston-scented air.

It is possible that you are the knit to my scarf,
maybe even the cinnamon roll at the Polar Bear,
but you are not even close
to being the dirty laundry in the corner.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the hat brim with the sticker
nor the melted twix in my pocket.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the other half of your blueberry muffin.

I also happen to be the delicious cream in eggnog,
the Bisquick in pancakes,
and the Lady Rainicorn to Jake the dog.

I am also the Tim to your Eric
and the grandpa to your grandma.
But don't worry, I'm not the blueberry and the muffin.
You are still the blueberry and the muffin.
You will always be the blueberry and the muffin,
not to mention the trailerhome and--somehow-- the gnome.