My eyes slide over you,
I keep telling myself it is easy
to look at you without seeing.
I cannot afford such a person as you;
your lips are too rich for my palate
and it would not do to taste you every day.
You hands are too soft for my skin
and they would find no purchase or hold.
Your thoughts are too pure for my discourse
and it would not do to taint you
And yet I desire you still,
when seeing the angle of your shoulder,
a dark lock of your hair fallen across your brow,
the shade of your gaze as it
sees past my eyes and reads my thoughts,
all the words threatening to overflow
my mind and speed past my lips before
my tongue can hope to halt them.
So as I glance across the room,
my eyes slip over you
and I do not see
the line of your neck
the curve of your smile
the intense spark of your eyes
and since you will never say the words
to reciprocate the unrequited,
the flame that burns red within me,
it is enough for
that I do not see you.
Copyright of L.A. Decker, 21 April 2005.