He loves me, He loves me not..

Something I wrote when wondering about a guy I was Musing on once.
Does he like me? Turns out he did.

He just never told me. Till much, much later. He was "intimidated."

How unfortunate.

WTS.


Does he let thoughts of me dance in his mind
Like velvety slippers, the daydreaming kind?

Did the confessions reach him too?
Secrets wanting gazes to deliver them,
Not knowing we knew
But still we remember them.

Was he as surprised as I?
New feelings popping out like burps.

A PLAINguage, our language
Like morningbird Chirps.

Does he wonder what I do when I'm All-Out of sight?
When I've All-Left and All-Gone,
Can he sense I'm All-Right?

Does He?
Like Me?

Has he asked the sky about Me?

Questioning cosmos,
Faster than a comet.
He can't hide that His pride,
Is ghost riding on it.

Does he imagine where my birthmarks could be?
What leg, which arm,
Shaped like a fault line with minimum cracks..

If I gave him a bite would he give me one back?

Has he wondered about my smell?
My ph-balanced,
Pheremoned
Nether-Regioned Spell.

The only fragrance in the Universe that wears heels
Spiritual stilettos, metaphysical wheels.

In his garden of Woman
Is there a flower named for me?



Am I a she-home for genomes,
His most favored tree?

Does he see thru my bone-structured face?
Queens, who birthed Queenly Queens,
And DNA'd these bones in place?
Whose struggles, lives and pains I've traced?

Ancestors paths that were never made of lace.

When drawing the map of his future
Am I found in the ink?
On the page?
In a chapter?

Is it violet or pink?

Are his feelings for me Art?
Wish I could take a look.

I'd climb right into his heart,
See if I'm in the book.