I dream,
Just to hold your hand, and
I am lost to imagination.
A sort of starry-eyed
Fascination.
I would die to touch your hair.
I could perhaps,
Collapse,
In a red-faced moment, shy.
I know you wonder why I sigh,
And swiftly look away.
It's just, you burn inside my heart,
But I hope you don't yet see me through.
I want to hide, but I fear it's clear to every eye,
That I am so in love with you . . .
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