It’s the little things
Like wedding rings
And fire that ignite
And I hear that you like
What you see
And when the person is me
I blush and then sigh
And I don’t say goodbye
To you again
Coz I’ve made my peace with the notion of men
How you can’t show affection
Without them wanting to add you to their collection
Of dolls sitting on the wall
But that isn’t me at all
Except when I’m walking by the rows
And the feeling shows 
As I smirk 
And I didn’t think that this would work
But it does 
And the story starts because
I let you in the door
When I’m walking on the ground floor
Of the building grey
But the door unlocks when you say
Hello to me
I didn’t think that I would be
Clutching at straws at thirty three