And as I sit in this same place as he,
Remembering the way he smiled at me,
And holding on to every lasting glance,
I wish that he would give a second chance
For grasping close those smiles and tears alike
Emotions rife with words I never said
His eyes to mine ever devout and like
This mouth wired shut, my face is turning red.
And yet this speech I cannot find; instead
I say platonic but my love is pure
So if and when the both of us are dead
The mystery of thoughts can lack allure.
A burden lifted- my love yours to hold
But still a fallacy our minds behold.