Love-Love

At love-love he took the ball
And with it, my helpless fall
My clutched eastern forehand grip
Didn’t stand a chance against his service whip
Up by one, he cut me crosscourt
Seizing the service line inside and short
I was pinned in the corner down by two
A weak return slice sliding out of view
I looked at him defeated, troubled and tried
Just before he flashed an ace on the ad side
He strolled to the net and emptied his pocket
While launching his smile as quick as a rocket
We were back at love and scoreless again
All I need and want is for him to tell me when
When does the game stop losing its meaning
When will he see it’s towards him that I’m leaning?
Take away the points and the score is even
Like satisfied lovers, always believin’
Nothing changes until you take a swing
It’s knowing he’s also in love while you hear the ping