I am enthralled by the mere essence of you.
I could not pin one thing, for it is within everything you do.
Every word, every whisper, and every enticing promise that you make.
The fantasy of being your lover can not break.
When I lay down at night, before I slip away to sleep;
The memory of you absorbs me, I must be in deep.
It must be that I am crazy, a fool infatuation.
A idle daydream of high expectation.
I feel as though you complete me, in every aspect of the way.
Yet, I stay afar, awaiting for a time, a place, or maybe the day.
Women flock to you, like birds of prey,
This is only one of the reasons I remain at bay.
My memory serves me well, of conversations merged with sin.
A certain era of time, I only wanted to let you in.
I became dedicated to only you, by measures which were not seen.
The way you gave me butterflies, when I heard from you like a teen.
My heart would race; my legs would quiver,
My temperature rising, in high hopes that you would deliver.
I must be silly; it’s highly unusual, I dare to confess,
It is you who I want by my side, in my caress.
To feel your skin nozzled against my nape.
One hand on my thigh, our bodies barely agape.
As you whisper beautiful sin into my ear,
the sexual pleasures that are near.
Reality escapes me, when I’ve often dreamt you.
For this purpose is another excuse, to mind what you do.
Maybe previously these words were just there,
Maybe just maybe you don’t really care.
What should have I expected, when I approached you no strings attached?
But I never expected to fall in love with the ways, and unknowingly became latched.
So I stay at a safe distance, admiring you from a far,
And sometimes I wonder if you’re the lover you say you are.
I tell myself maybe in another time or another place,
Maybe in a few years or another life with another face.
Or maybe not all, maybe I should just smile at the memory.
Maybe I should just leave you alone, and let you be.
The Heartfelt Pen 