I know


I know I am up against an iceberg.
My Titanic love hit you and broke to pieces.
Now, I struggle like an eviscerated frog
on the dissection table in the biology lab.

Not that you aren’t passionless…
but your eyelids drop down
like autumnal leaves looking at me…
There is Saharan silence
that I have been unable to break that kills me.
The pain permeates my psyche
and I suffer a wordless agony.

As your admirer
Don’t I deserve a minute’s court?
A minute’s attention?
Even a flower beyond my hand’s reach
wouldn’t forbid me from looking at it.
All beautiful things are part of nature.
They have no preferences
when someone indulges in pleasing himself
without infringement or interference.

Grant me this concession:
To pass these hours of angst
merely looking at you, your movements, and their grace.

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