Every word of my pen is hopelessly yours,
It dances, it flutters, it weaves, it adores.
My notebook blushes, my pages sigh,
They hold your name like a lullaby.

The stars get jealous of my inked refrain,
Each line a confession, raw and insane.
Even commas pause just to admire,
The spark in my verses, set aflame by desire.

And oh,...