He doesn't know
how I feel
I don't think
he doesn't know how
his eyes make me flush
he doesn't know
I would give him the world
if I could
He was a dream
Half a life ago
and I feel so
complete near him
this time
the passion is different
this time
it is old & familiar
a fire that smolders
deep & comfortable
how I wish
I knew how to tell him
I want to reach
across the chasm
between us
and simply
take his hand
I think in our case
the truth would
speak volumes
we can't admit are there
He doesn't know
what my heart feels
Where do I find
the courage to tell him
We work in the Dark; we give what we have. Our Doubt is our passion- our passion is our task, and the rest is the madness of art. -Henry James
