My elaborate gift.
Sometimes I wonder did I steal
a future memory?
My gleeful rush to be savored.
Through her tears; her punching
sigh of joy, I feel my power.
She is a professional in many areas
but remains a novice
in the room that love doesn't fill.
Must I
-like her who remains coupled,
break in and paint it my way?
The thief of hearts
is first a thief.
