— a poem of potpourris.
With Space
Not too much, not too little
I’ll admit it’s getting way out of hand
Loving you from afar, that is
Lies have floated on my surface, my insides see-through.
Let it not be known by the crowd
Of all the time I nearly expose my being
Virtues had gone straight to the bin
Even my demons would think I’m foolish.
Yield — I submit to your nature.
On just the outskirts of your thoughts, I’ve fallen more and more, yet
Unnerving I’ve become, not knowing what’s next.
From your tendency to withdraw, I’ve kept my distance
Rose and rosettes I won’t need; only you near.
Of all the unspoken vows yours would be
More, than what I can hope of myself to bear
As far as I know, that heart has no master
Fear not, for I seek no such thing.
As I own the courage of my convictions,
Restless I’ve become, craving you closer.
— Shall there be any confusion, refer to the first letter of each line.
