How is it you’ve entered my stream of consciousness
Thinking of you, woman, is no alternative fact,
You’re the sole hearer of this interior monologue
Were I to write it down, how might you react?

Try as I have, to douse this emotive inferno
Burning with the fury of a thousand suns,
Extinguish, you must, the heat lest it transfers
Hold onto your Valentine heart or away it runs

To a captivating scribe penning honestly to you
I can’t justify opening a door to my majestic world,
My Jehova knows you’re the axis on which it spins
The custom necklace is now being rubied and pearled

Only the rarest earth stones in all their vibrant tones
Shall adorn your limbs should I have my way,
Your silhouette is visible even in midnight darkness
Your telling eyes they haunt me with their diamonds inlay

How do I ask thee? I shan’t count the ways
The inspirations you elicit, my, are they far too many,
Place your tender fingers atop this writer’s pulse
So quickened by your effect so as there isn’t any

If anything I may give to you, they are the words
that flow from my spirit and my mind thereabouts,
Allow my thoughts to be consumed by your fragrance…?
…I cannot, woman, I won’t … but there are doubts

Lurking within my pen, in my hand, my cerebellum
There, in the nether regions, you won’t go away,
Perhaps you’re carrying my feelings as your very own
My instincts hint at interchangeable words we’d say

But you need not open that Pandora’s Box
Such an action is likened to a forbidden task,
Let me write to thee unencryptedly
For only you would understand this writer’s ask

I want you to think of me as I you—no less
There is something within me, indeed, you possess
No longer able am I to withhold the sign
Would you consider me most worthy of your Valentine?

-Rg2

_________

***
A special Ask for a special Woman. -Rg2

© 2017 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®