I Tell Him

Might I go to him?
Go to him and tell him?
Tell him what his beauty, inside and out, does to me?
That he, himself and no other, captures and continues to capture my eye?
That he has taken my heart from me?
And that I might not argue that he continues to keep it?
That he mustn't take me but at least accept that I might take him?
That I would not turn him away unless he asked?
Must I ask myself or even him to ever forgive my heart?
Forgive it of feeling the way it does?
Mad?
It is mad.
That is what my heart is.
There is nothing else to it.