You were my lover

although so hidden

I never would have


unless I read

your clever phrases,

turn of tongue:

honeyed words you

deep dive me into.

You were my lover

although for years

I thought of you

as single as

the breeze

a high falutin’ dream

thoroughly mystic.

Are you my lover?

At least in dreams

in dreams you

volubly increase

throwing out

your shyness;

almost believe

in consequence.