A wall of doublethink
denies my hands,
wrapped and bound
by wordy chains
I bend to their demands.
Look; the questions on my knuckles,
phrases down my fingers.
These second-thoughts like shining buckles,
locked tight; words left to linger.
In haunted glass I watch your decent,
unable to reach out;
wishing words could extricate,
but gagged am I by cruel doubt.

He lives in my mind
an obelisk to my utter uselessness,
my self-doubt;
but I can’t imagine time without him.
Without the pain.

The agony of his friendship
has been the greatest pleasure of my year.

Maybe it’s her smile that does it,
something so simple
as a flexing of muscles
to give me pause.

Or maybe it’s the eyes,
the way she looks at me
while we talk,
even as she mentions her boyfriend.

Could it be the way she stands,
So close by my side,
when the work is slow
and conversation is all our time allows?

But that smile,
lending an unfamiliar familiarity.
Was it coy? Did she play?
Do I read too much into the little things?

Perhaps it’s all of it together,
how those eyes squint
when pushed up by round cheeks,
that blossom in a grin.

Maybe… maybe.
Whatever it is,
my heart does sing for her;
that forbidden fruit.