Love, The Implicit.

I spot her in a crowd and innocently conclude she is there for my heed. I am desperate for her glance, that fails to meet my eagerness. I brand it as her coyness. She talks to someone with smile, that I conveniently interpret that it is meant for me to note. She is engrossed in long chats, that gives me a clear cut signal that she grants me her vision. She seems much uneasy to see And blushes when accosted. Yes, my current runs through her. I can’t evidence to the public that she is in love with me. I won’t betray her predicament. She can’t manifest her love. I don’t want for love a witness to tarnish her modesty and majesty. Whether she shows her love or not, I believe in her the mute love for me and in it find an erotic joy. 17.03.2001, Pmdi