Just bright, etched with love,
my indifferent friend.
Yours, a passionate, cold gaze,
unaware of my vibrant eyes.
Sun burning in that frozen spring,
the fire quenched by the same flame,
amid lips torn from fragile effort,
pleading for a kiss.
Ignorant of reality,
lost in glances not meant for me,
and fleeting touches drifting away
which depart from you, woman
I firmly hold on to a maybe
to a lucid smile given in bed
between scraps of clueless anguish
and the dew of your silken hands.