I sit in silence
basking in a revelation
which does not belong to me.
Yearning for the love
which is unbeknownst to you,
but looms on me,
like a dark cloud on a stormy day.
An aura of beauty not for the blind eye,
but a piercing blade through my heart.
How little this book is written
in languages that will not mix,
but a fervent desire to learn you and write you,
even if for only one chapter.