The lure of smile teases me
peaking curiosity.
The man, the picture perfect
has engaged my thoughts of late.

I see in stance, in glance
slight of sadness
haunt of past, and my heart
it yearns to know, and
my feelings threat to show.

In a dream, my hands
long to reach, I want to breathe
in space of him to know,
to feel, to ease sorrow.

Confused, I keep a distance
I do not want. Would rather plot
and plan a tryst, clandestine
yet must keep desire hidden,

away from the lure of smile
and those eyes that speak to me.


WhiteRose