Your face blurred in the half-light
absorbed by the dark kitchen cabinets.
Tear stained love decorated your honed cheeks.
My lips averting streams
flowing from the secret places
of your heart to mine.
I wish I had drank from them.
I thought of doing it briefly
but then lost my nerve.
I'm always losing my nerve around you
or so it seems.
Recalling my first glimpse of you
through filtered light
of that crowded room.
You stood at the podium
regal and willowy
in your tender self-imposed uncertainty.
Stolen moments begat hours
which slipped to a day and
ended in a measurement
only the infinity of the heart could hold.
I have started to call you every day
knowing you must want me too.
I've sent a dozen bouquets
and signed as many cards
only to find
my fingers wrapped around stop
instead of my pen.
Will we ever share the window seat
overlooking the oaks,
and just how much fidelity
does it take
to break a heart?
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