Bambi

This is for you,

from heret o there

where your heart is,

gnarled in mickles of silence

a heart worn inside out,

in a hamlet of your unspoken.

In your dreamy excursions

You speak to my breathe,

dance to my heart beat

you wish if once I could say it

but how? Yet just like me,

you never have ever said a thing.

You huff in your odd sniffles

fall for my rising lips,

adore the other falling one.

in your dreams, you call my name

stalk along among long hallways,

yet when we meet, you utter all,

that's less than a whisper.

Bambi,

see how my heart wilts,

will I once ever melt in your fond?

brusquely, I adore you,

wish I could say it out but how?

yet just like you I as well

I am, a secret admirant.

november (the black poet)

* woes of a sombre heart*

November Wordsworth