My neighbor is wearing his heart on his door --
Scarlet and sequined and a bit off-kilter.
I know what you’re thinking, but he’s not.
He’s just showing off his sensitive side to his girlfriend,
Hoping this public display of amoré
Will weaken her resistance and melt her heart.
And it does -- she takes the bait --
Spotting his heart on his door, while passing,
Scarlet and sequined and a bit off-kilter,
On her way to -- Oh heck, she forgot!
She finds herself humming,
As she sprints up the steps
To the top of his stoop.
Taking a moment to straighten out his heart,
Before reaching to buzz his doorbell,
The way she might, someday,
Smooth a lock of his unruly hair,
Or coax a piece of lint
From his navy blue peacoat,
Or adjust its collar after she kisses him
“Good Morning!” on his way to work,
Still on tiptoes and in her nightgown.
It’s Valentine’s Day,
And my neighbor is waiting,
His heart strung on a swinging door,
Scarlet and sequined and a bit off-kilter,
Not unlike the man it belongs to
Or that of the woman he’s longing to date
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