It seems that you
are still with me.
In the quiet spaces
I dare not dream of you, and yet
you creep within, tenacious.
You look at her with such eye
as once you looked at me –
see something different, please…
…or my heart will shout
LIAR
though I still my tongue.
She loves you, desperately.
Be joyous; be content, and do not
dream of me.
12/26/1995
*****