Green flag

My little squirrel, are you ready, dear?
Stay quiet now and do not speak a word—
A red flag flares along the path we steer.
This man’s a lovestruck maniac, I’ve heard.

I’ll ace the exam for you in sweet distress,
In “Love” as subject—though it cuts so deep.
You’ll tear your own hands in your restlessness,
If you drive a knife into my aching heart to keep.

I’d eat you up, my dear, just trust in me;
And I’m a thousand tropes within these lines.
When hope of rescue faded endlessly,
You came—a hundred paths inside this heart of mine.

You walked them all. I want you to desire
To hold me close and tremble, shy and true.
I’m talking to a neural net, on fire,
About you—all the things I feel for you.

From what I say, she knows, my sweet, it’s clear—
How precious and essential you remain.
“What does that dream mean, where in May you’re here,
In that red dress? What sign is it again?”

I check the dream book once again, unsure,
Wondering which night you’ll visit me.
A hundred times I searched, so insecure,
Asking the web: how can I win, surprise, impress thee?

My roses come with thorns—their truth is brief.
It won’t last long, you hear me? Well, that’s fate.
You risk breaking the needle with your grief,
If you stab my heart with that relentless hate.

My squirrel, how are you, my art, my light?
The red flag’s gone—it’s green now, disappeared.
I passed the test on honest, raw delight,
But tell me, what grade did I get, my dear?