When I texted, “Are you in love with him?”
Perhaps your answer lost itself in translation,
Did you assume a “yes” would cloud my emotions dim?
Quite possibly, I might have demanded reparation

I mean, what the hell was he doing in your pool?
Which of you was doing the entertaining—he?
So you interpret a bouquet of flowers the essence of cool
That provocative Instagram post…was that for me?

Of course it was, and, no, I’m not full of myself
Your action was highly subjective—a visual statement,
That I was no more than another product on your shelf
And that I needed to consider emotional abatement:

Power down, young man, curb your enthusiasm
A woman is prone to do strange things out of hurt,
Krista, we were opposing ends of a romantic chasm
Figuratively knock a man down but, gosh, don’t kick dirt

That was last summer, a season lost to mutual misstep
You never replied to the text, “Are you in love with him?”
I truly believe it was an uncomplicated answer you kept
I didn’t cross your mind? Woman, the chances were slim

I’ve never lacked confidence but I’ve tasted humble pie
I never took for granted that you would agree to dinner,
Perhaps you wanted this writer to be an extraordinary guy
Make no mistake: My father sired a bona fide winner

I was walking toward you; maybe you preferred I run
It might have been you wanted to inner-feel my passion,
What if our reserved dinner table faced a setting sun?
As I pull your chair, as you approach, in romantic fashion

The most sorrowful of all words: What might have been?
Though even more pitiful: The summer that wasn’t,
Woman, as I write this, I swear, I’m sippin’ on gin
To imagine what your fragrance is like, girl, I mustn’t

That was a summer ago; I trust you read my letters
The irony of it all? You were the hidden theme of most,
That was then; my creatives this season are even mo’ better
Consider this a new series: The initial Rg2 post…

Of a summer’s romance collection inspired by you
I’m sending one more text: With whom are you in love?
A woman’s heart doesn’t function well when it’s not true
Might I be the one you haven’t rid your thoughts of?

If there’s another fella with whom you’re sharing idle time
A lucky chap, he, but those’re but moments frittered away,
Such is the nature of emotional infidelity—on his dime
Are you afraid of how you’d feel on Pamper-Her-Friday…

…with me…

Krista, my summer’s free.

Can we be…

A summer’s romance?

Remembrance,
Rg2

______________

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Pamper the woman . . . to make up for the summer that wasn’t. -Rg2

© 2017 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®