The Failing of Words

What word describes my thought of you?

Lust? Too vulgar and too crude–

Though beauty’s yours, in fullness too.


No, I must a softer, gentler name possess

To describe the bottomless recess

Of my heart and mind that’s yours–no less.


Perhaps it’s love–perhapse it’s not.

True, too much pain that word would wrought

If uttered and returned was not


Perhaps too true that loathsome word doth ring

Perhaps too clear it maketh my heart sing.

Perhspse too sharp a broken friendship’s sting.

And so, in silence, love reigns king.


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