I perceive you best
when looking beyond.
It's invariably dusk,
and I yearn for aurora.
There's never a sonance
nevertheless I heed all of you.
You never claimed to be pure,
but I can't acknowledge a stain.

Eyelashes obstruct my vision;
my lips negligently say your name.
Though when it is of consequence
I avert my eyes away.
Can you call this unyielding denial?
Can you call this timorous shame?
The mad, mercurial dancing of my heart
refuses to fade into placid serenity.

Despite my endeavors, and
undeterred by my scruples,
the gossamer web you spin
enraptures and enthralls.
I would not recoil
or cringe from your figure,
but I could not indubitably declare
there is no trepidation in my gaze.