If I cry to the moon, like a wolf in the woods..
Would it heed a reply?
If I let my tears drip, as I bathe in the river..
Would the fish taste the salts of my sorrow?
If I exhale a breath into the night air,
Would the breeze even be aware?

Are my actions frozen in place,
Or simply, displaced..
Like the smile from a face.

I feel your heat, fire.
I long to get close enough to be burned.
I am your observer, you can call me yours.
But you, are not mine.
I am one with the crowd flocked around you.
All of us close enough to feel,
But I'll envy the one you consume whole.
The pyromaniac who fears nothing and walks right in, to feel your all.

Scattered shavings of pencil led
To line the dusty floor.
Sketched art instead of words unsaid
Sleeping behind closed doors.
A sillouette in graphite lines
Surfaces in the dark,
When light shines out and down again
The creature does embark.

I'll avoid eye contact,
And speaking.
I'll walk silent, as though sneaking.
I am not here today;
If I am, no one sees me.

Intimidatingly alluring, that is what you are.
I cannot keep my awkwardness from stirring,
As I try to be smooth whilist my thoughts are still churning.
I keep messing up the words, from my mouth that come out.

You're even more fine, than the best dwarven stout,
With an essence of strength, though you keep yourself at length.
Even without a stash of memories, of you, in my mind;
Thoughts of you still cross, I find.
This is but a simple note to entwine your mind with rhyme,
I find you sublime, and I think you're divine.