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I am trying to be impressive.
I want you to be impressed.
Please, understand.

I need you to think highly of me.
I need it so much, because you are perfection.
And I want to impress the perfect lady,
The perfect lover,
The perfect one for me.
I want to impress.

It is not certain yet.
Not certain because we just met.
We are tentative, groping, and searching.
Trying to find out
Where we are.
How it will turn out.
Will we be everything to each other.
Or we will simply touch, nod, and pass each other by.

So I need to impress you.
Show you I can be what you want.
Show you what I am.
In your eyes.
In your life.

I have deep vision.
Deep understanding.
I know
You are the one for me, with your wit, your style, your glow.
You are the one,
The intellect to match my intellect,
The love to match my love,
The lust to match my lust.
My love.
You could be.
I know.

Is it working.
Is it making you smile, and laugh, and clap your hands.
Am I impressive.

I must be. I must be. I have to be impressive.
For you. 
For you to want me.
For you to accept me.
To know I am the one.

I must be.
I must be the one.
And the fortunate one.

You are impressive
To me.

Let us share. Let us touch.
And be impressive.
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