Never will I tell the truth
of my feelings for you.
None but I need ever know.
But here - who save I
will know of whom I write?
In my dreams we are a pair.
Others do not speak of me but
that they also mention you.
Or so some dreams are.
Others- I awake trembling from a need that naught
I do will assuage.
Yet others leave me weeping
from imagined rejection.
My own lacks cripple me.
Thus never shall I speak of such matters to you -
unless you bring them up first.
24 July 2004
