“Emotional Migration”

A man loses a woman when he loses her mind
Rarely is it idle, if at all,
In constant motion, more than a notion
There’s only one for whom she falls

Could it be that I’m the ‘fall guy’?
That one who penetrated your wall,
Brick by brick and stone by stone
Blame it on my velvet wrecking ball

The irony of having met you on a Friday
is certainly not lost on me, girl,
“Pampering’s for the weak woman,” you quipped
Remember the verbal daggers you would hurl?

All a vain attempt to deter the inevitable
My stated mission you tried to thwart,
If I’d succeed in simply planting a seed
An opening, there, for emotional support

Would widen each time we said good night
Just a bit more difficult to end the call,
A timely text to you; was I vexing you?
I upped the ante for Peter and Paul

And the coterie of others on your options list
I never discounted my competition,
But none could match my creative advantage
I’ve always trusted my intuition

I understood the matter of closure
for the one who unfortunately predated me,
Time and tears may have been vested
But emotional migration is real, you see

It’s no owner’s game, the heart’s affairs
Fiction is the metaphor of lock and key,
The truth is a woman’s susceptibility
Lies somewhere in depth and degree

The ones before me and those come after
They have no bearing on what you feel,
What will ever remain is the man apart
Emotional migration, woman, is real

No, no wandered thought, no fleeted rush
can describe my pulse that lives in you,
When I fall asleep, it’s your eyes that close
Emotional migration is real, it’s true

Rescued you are from the romantic Hinterlands
An emotional migrant, a drifter no more,
Our home was built on Pamper-Her-Friday
Your lock, my key . . . is our metaphor . . .

Forever.

______________

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Pamper the woman . . . like a man apart. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®