What History Has Taught Me. Poem by Timothy Moss

I'VE got a WAY with WORDS,
That REPLICATES -
MICHAEL -
With the GLOVE,
PICASSO -
With the DOVE,
Or VAN GOGH -
With the BRUSH.
But SHE has a WAY,
With that SMILE,
That -
DA VINCI couldn't DECIPHER,
EYES that,
SPARKLE -
So BRIGHT -
GALILEO might have DISCOVERED.
SHE has a WAY with those LIPS,
That rivals EINSTEIN.
Her lips -
As ATOMS -
SPLIT when SHE SPEAKS -
So HER WORDS,
Leave my MIND BLOWN.
The THEORY of ME and YOU -
SQUARED -
Is what I wish to RELATE to,
So I'll CONTINUE -
To TRIANGLES -
That get YOUR SIDE,
ADJACENT to MINE -
Like a TANGENT.
SHE has a WAY with those LOOKS,
That's like EASTERN STANDARD TIME,
Because her image SPANS my THOUGHTS -
FOUR HOURS -
Like TIME ZONES.
Don't take OFFENSE,
But I want to call an AUDIBLE -
A HAIL MARY from the -
FRIEND-ZONE,
THROWN -
To the END-ZONE.
Your father must be MICHELANGELO,
Because a your MASTERPIECE,
Quite simply,
My TEXTBOOK is OUTDATED,
So maybe WE could MAKE SOME HISTORY.