Because you don’t know I love you, I love you more.

I wait, and the waiting makes me love,

Because waiting is wanting, and love is what wanting is for.

When the secret is out, my love will have a chance

To be returned—and that’s a difficult dance.

That will involve analysis turned back on me

And the material trappings of everything love and judgement see.

My love for you is hungry—love is best when hungry, and blind.

Love is hungry to know, too, but knowing is usually unkind.

I don’t want love’s unkindness. I don’t want love to go.

I love you more than you can imagine—that’s why you’ll never know.



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