She talks of him./
She thinks of him./
She dreams of him./
She pines 4 him./
She texts him./
Even at the gym,/
she yearns 4 him./
My chances 4 her? Slim./
I’m not him.

Slow dancing with you/
is like a dream from which I/
don’t want to wake up.

Do U dream,/
when you’re tired and nonserene,/
of rebeling again,/
just so you could b in my arms and then/
drift off 2 peaceful, satisfied sleep/
and slumber deep?

Sleep deprivation:/
You do that to me. Just deal/
with it, or sue me.

Sev’ral thousand lines/
of adoring, wooing rhymes/
fail to make you mine.

She still not into/
you. Writing thousands of lines of/
woo goo won’t change that.

Is ‘I’ll contemplate/
it’ Utah woman-speak for /
‘No. you’re not my type!’?

I tried a little/
tenderness, like Otis said./
It worked…so now what?

Lunch was eggs. I want/
to make omlets. She says no./
Can’t we have them twice?