A muted confession





             A muted confession romance stories
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autumnshowers
autumnshowers '95 / stories through poetry
Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
If ever my heart could speak unimpeded...

A muted confession

Have I ever expressed

Have I ever expressed how the sight of your smile

Have I ever expressed how the sight of your smile kindles something warm and fierce within me,

Have I ever expressed how the sight of your smile kindles something warm and fierce within me, some secret fire

Have I ever expressed how the sight of your smile kindles something warm and fierce within me, some secret fire that ignites

Have I ever expressed how the sight of your smile kindles something warm and fierce within me, some secret fire that ignites when I observe

Have I ever expressed how the sight of your smile kindles something warm and fierce within me, some secret fire that ignites when I observe the upward curve of your handsome lips,

the effect of their display

the effect of their display too deep, too brilliant,

the effect of their display too deep, too brilliant, too wondrous

the effect of their display too deep, too brilliant, too wondrous for one of hollow wit such as me

the effect of their display too deep, too brilliant, too wondrous for one of hollow wit such as me to remark justly on their magnificence?

My love,

My love, I fear

My love, I fear that I am a pauper when it comes to emotion—

My love, I fear that I am a pauper when it comes to emotion— in its proper elaboration,

My love, I fear that I am a pauper when it comes to emotion— in its proper elaboration, in its careful elucidation and demonstration.

When it comes to you—

When it comes to you— of what you mean to me,

When it comes to you— of what you mean to me, I can only present you with a book of blank pages,

When it comes to you— of what you mean to me, I can only present you with a book of blank pages, vain in my hope

When it comes to you— of what you mean to me, I can only present you with a book of blank pages, vain in my hope that you will see past their silent, pristine uniformity,

and discover

and discover the soul within.

It is an impossibility, my dear, I am well aware—

It is an impossibility, my dear, I am well aware— for someone such as you,

It is an impossibility, my dear, I am well aware— for someone such as you, boundless and unashamed in your passions,

It is an impossibility, my dear, I am well aware— for someone such as you, boundless and unashamed in your passions, to dig beneath the soil of barren ground,

to walk in a garden never cultivated,

to walk in a garden never cultivated, never grown,

to walk in a garden never cultivated, never grown, its guardian—

to walk in a garden never cultivated, never grown, its guardian— impoverished

to walk in a garden never cultivated, never grown, its guardian— impoverished in horticultural wisdom,

to walk in a garden never cultivated, never grown, its guardian— impoverished in horticultural wisdom, who buries the roots that would seek the light,

to walk in a garden never cultivated, never grown, its guardian— impoverished in horticultural wisdom, who buries the roots that would seek the light, seek life,

coiled evermore in their burrows underground,

coiled evermore in their burrows underground, the darkness and dust its fields,

coiled evermore in their burrows underground, the darkness and dust its fields, reaching upwards with pale and tentative tendrils

coiled evermore in their burrows underground, the darkness and dust its fields, reaching upwards with pale and tentative tendrils only when the sun takes flight and the moon alights.

My whispers break the cold night air,

My whispers break the cold night air, I alone for them to hear,

My whispers break the cold night air, I alone for them to hear, a trembling silhouette at the window,

My whispers break the cold night air, I alone for them to hear, a trembling silhouette at the window, one hand reaching up to the glass,

My whispers break the cold night air, I alone for them to hear, a trembling silhouette at the window, one hand reaching up to the glass, fingers sliding atop the glittering stars,

their distant glow somehow more attainable

their distant glow somehow more attainable than you,

their distant glow somehow more attainable than you, the secret desire of my heart.

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