De Clerambault’s Syndrome

The problem with her;

is that she loves me too much,
subtle shades of black under her eyes,
and bed-head hair;

the flirt.

Early morning madness captures her.
Holding her hand-bag seductively,
her footsteps are in time with mine;

showing she cares.

She’s told me to leave her alone
I know she doesn’t mean it,
how can she?

We’re in love.

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