My Love, You Are Yours But Mine

An Admirer’s Infatuation

Photo by ammar sabaa on Unsplash

A love forbidden; a feeling untouched,
a belief undisputed, a woman undoubted.
She is an idea, a reason to ponder,
an identity confined within herself.

Neither she is mine nor at anybody’s stake.

Possessing a possibility of untold love,
my beauty: you’re a veneer, not a skin.
Told me you’re a lie, bogus but fragile,
my precious; you’re a sheath, not thin.

Inebriated and idle, I stood behind your back,
my hope; you’re an angel, not a rogue.
Tempted by your charm, illicit but true,
my enchanter: you’re a breath, not smoke.

Night’s hue and I amidst the imminent chaos,
my flame: you’re a warmth, not fear.
Danced with the symphony, lively but alone,
my fate, you’re a distance but near.