Unknown She does not know— It remains unknown to her. The comforting warmth freely given,
The quiet indifference, so gentle. Love draped in conditions, Yet still, love so rare, so fine. Bliss woven into every fiber, Soft torment, a pleasure concealed. She flirts with mystery, Yet stands unmeasured, so real. I entangle my emotions in thought, Yet her laughter is simple, bright. I know— What I wished to be, Yet she has always been. Unaware of my own insufficiencies, She has already seen. How noble, this search for my own voice In the clamour of a chaotic world. Yet love unspoken, though rightfully hers, Remains unknown to her.
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