There is a man for whom I am in-love
with such passion and devastation.

And in this love is an unrequited love
that will only ever complete a friend’s demonstration.

His smile does not pain me
but rekindles that ever sought platonic joy.

His embrace does not degrade me
but rejuvenates an unrequited love I must employ.

Fear is not what muzzles my confession
neither contemplated rejection of an unrequited Lover’s request.

Nor is it defamation of an unknown variable
nay a bashful persona that puts pause to this Lover’s behest.

Our ventures are divided by disjointed unpredictable years
that proceed as if by yesterday, we said only but goodnight.

There is quality within the narrow scope of quantity
as he loves me, and I in-love with him, that yet leads to flight.

Days deflate to hours, dissolve to seconds of non-regret
my eyes, harbingers of Veritas, I believe he gently comprehends.

But hush, says my heart.
But to-heel, does my hand.
But smile, advises my mind.
But to-farewell, emotes my hug.
But to-reconceal, portrays my eyes.

And I am reconciled to be in-love with him
whilst no unwavering need to self reprimand.

For I signed this warrant of unrequited Love
to sustain, to hope contain, to give Muse when him, I think Of.