The very thought of her brings the blood to my cheeks;
I'm embarrassed.
Not by her, but by the thought of loving her the way I do.
Hardened through love,
it's like the war I never had to fight,
because I'm just watching. Wanting.
And yet if she turns to me,
I'm broken down into a coward,
the one I never hoped to ever be.
And soon it's a jumble of nonsense,
spewing from my mouth,
like the slip of feet on frozen water.
For without bliss,
she would not be beautiful.
And with it,
I am weak in the most beautiful way.
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