Love, the implicit.

I spot her in a crowd
and innocently conclude
she is there for my heed.

I am desperate for her glance,
that fails to meet my eagerness.
I brand it as her coyness.

She talks to someone with smile,
that I conveniently interpret
that it is meant for me to note.

She is engrossed in long chats,
that gives me a clear cut signal
that she grants me her vision.

She seems much uneasy to see
And blushes when accosted.
Yes, my current runs through her.

I can’t evidence to the public
that she is in love with me.
I won’t betray her predicament.

She can’t manifest her love.
I don’t want for love a witness
to tarnish her modesty and majesty.

Whether she shows her love or not,
I believe in her the mute love for me
and in it find an erotic joy.
17.03.2001, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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