With painful judiciousness he does not dare
meet your gaze
Should you catch a glimpse of his desires,
robust but futile,
Poorly camouflaged by the controlled
neutrality of his voice,
The measured distance of his body and his
impeccable civility.
Like a kleptomaniac, he greedily steals
glances at your sacred face
And the inviting movements of those
forbidden lips he burns to kiss
To his memory he commits the dance of lights
in your eyes,
The intoxicating music of every uttered
word, the magic of your smiles.
His loot he brings with him into the
darkness of night,
To be stored in the heavy chest of memory
and unattainable dreams
--home to that romantic but aging heart,
long abandoned by happiness and courage
And constantly gnawed at by ever-growing
emptiness and despair.
