Funny how a photograph can pump blood I only have one of you, it isn't mine it sits here backlit shared with all that would gladly drown in those mischief eyes. Your smile, a moment of calm, a second of perfection caught, always brings my own. There is no beauty like yours, no work of art has ever made me want to overflow with passion the way you do. I could write countless poems, a thousand odes to your dimples, a million sonnets to your curls, a billion lovesongs to your eyes to no avail. So I'll laugh at your jokes, and be a sturdy shoulder, a friend. I'll wish the best for you always, while your heart keeps my secret safe. Poets shouldn't fall in love with the unloved, there aren't enough words to describe the agony.