You are my every line
my conscious grammar
my pen
my hammer.
You are my inner fire
my silver sharp
love's harp
burning desire.
You are my runner girl
of fated sneaker.
My heart weak, knees weaker
my frozen air
breath curls
in a dance it whirls,
and I chase you like a dream
in poet steam.
You are my every line
my conscious grammar
my pen
my hammer.
For my inner fire, my driving force, my love of course!
You are my grammar
as I am your object
to accept your subject's intensifiers.
Set me off in any sentence position.
I go as well before or after your verb.
I predicate your clause and need no passive voice
as your active verb
is always there to curb my adverb.
If my love could be in an adverbial phrase
I'd be lost in a proverbial maze
of more, more, more, more!
In a daze, I feel your sentence curve
around my dreams imperative.
We need no articles
to cover our passion gerund
and our love lacks pronouns.
I will be your future progressive
as you are my present perfect.
Your adjectives are many and race in mind
and modify my sentence structure
as modals of would, could, can and will fill my heart.
I see no conjunction between us.
We share the same page
as you are my aspect and time frame
in book's art never to part.
I am your conditional possessive…
Will you be my Valentine?