I Have Always Been Poor at Flirting

Your words,

They flow and mesmerize

Like water in a piano.

They clash more than the symbols of love.

They make me weak at the knees

Causing mild arthritis.

Your heart,

On the other hand isn’t so sweet.

It’s like ice under your fingernails,

But yet it never melts away.

It’s always cold and ruthless.

A kiss from you,

The one a girl never forgets.

It’s hotter than the fire

On the palm of your hand,

Burning passionately until midnight falls.

Back to your wondrous words,

They drive me wild when put into writing.

Your writing is sweeter than the sound of

Earth in your ears.

So please,

Write me the final poem

Before you break my heart,

One.

Last.

Time.