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Secret Love
The secret touches
the hidden kisses.
Stolen glances
that say so much.
Undying passion
just under the surface.
Each stolen second
threatening to erupt.
The secret touches
the hidden kisses.
Stolen glances
that say so much.
Undying passion
just under the surface.
Each stolen second
threatening to erupt.
This poem lacks but one thing to accomplish perfection: there is no final verb showing, or leading to, or implying the eruption. Perhaps you will consider adding a few words, to further enhance the reading experience.
Starward