I love her but from afar. With fear but without agenda. Simple salutations inspire perspiration and my capillaries aspire to scarlet, returning a youthfulness long since wasted. Does she assume reticence or indifference?
I glance across the divide, carefully attempting to balance the burning need to stare at her mesmerising elegance with the necessity not to be intimidating and harrowing.
Just one look, one coy smile, one simple recognition and my day is complete. I don't need reciprocation, allow me to rest without risk on the edges of illusion. Reality would be too painful to bear.