You say,
This, us, could only exist in the shadows
There will be no affection crossing platonic
No outdoor sunshine and wild flower meadows
No holding hands, no kisses, no hugs that lasts for too long in public
There will only be ache and longing stares
Arms reaching halfway, only to drop

I say,
But there will be love, in between, filling the air
I lean in close, but not touching -- not yet, tell me to stop


© Drei A.