I am the secret story
she writes on her heart.
It is written in
a beautiful hand.
Each letter scripted
in old fashioned
copper plate.
when she reads it
I know she is close
and mist of lovelight
falls over me.
At home or work or at play.
And as if by some
mystical command
I find my way back to her
and share a kiss.
As she writes
a further chapter
onto her secret book.
she says I can read it
when it is finished.
I asked how long
will that be.
she whispered
Never.