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Poem

100 days to that day
The stars clapped
When the cap with your lip print
Landed in my hand, so perfectly and clear,
The print of your lips I could almost trace
So I cut to the chase, while my heart race
To the denial that I’ve got feelings for the lace
That follows your essence as you move past me.

Clearly you do not see me
Obviously my feeling does not scream
The cream on my lips that I keep plum does not suggest
My luminous corner craving your attention does not say.
The obvious luscious body in the dress I chose does not communicate.
Clearly my actions do not shout enough.
So, I wait for the 100th day.
For it was a 100 days to the perfect day
When expressing love in words is in order.
In wait I count down the days 100 to one.

At one you were still the one
None had my attention
None Held my heart arrest in the rhythm yours did.
Every word I chose stood pointed to you
Every expression expressly about you
Every choice of color as hot as you
Mine was yours and only yours
I watched you walk toward my beckon
Without reservation your steps bold towards me
I can swear I forgot to breathe
All I could hear was my heart beat to your steps
Though concrete and silent it was far reaching and controlling
One I did not resist.

Just a fraction of that attraction
I harbored and labored to control
Over powering as I Handed you the piece of me
That piece of hard paper that could only carry the words,

“Be My Valentine.”

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