Life is wrought
with mysteries; you have long been mine.
Here I avow only that circles do not cease, and neither does
defenseless love, of which we are all so often victims.
And I have wondered,
futile though this wondering may be, why; how; still?
I grant this is elusive, yet l pursue it with fervor, nonetheless.
And I now know this:
It seems I loved you after all, still do.
"Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy, absent-minded. Someone sober will worry about events going badly. Let the lover be." ~Rumi
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