I know I won't seem special to those eyes

that glisten to my glancing on this night;

still, something brings me thinking out stark lies

and hoping for unreals to come to light.

We've never talked, perhaps we never will -

my temperament stalls out with randomness -

but I can see another vision still

where light-crossed gazes end in tenderness.

I wonder if I ever will find love

when I can only think on it alone;

I hope I do not find myself above

or buried with no smiles on my stone.

For my sepulchre, while I have the chance,

perhaps we two could gather for a dance?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

An extension of reality again... involving a girl at first, and then my situations with girls in general to make something of it.

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