To Savor Her For Myself Poem by William Jackson

She dared not acknowledge the subtle dance we engaged in, nor did I.
To do so would have spoiled everything, and so we danced in wonder,
though we made no revolutions, no swirling, swishing steps or turns;
and although I drank her in with only my eyes, she knew of my intoxication.

Maintaining the unspoken communication,
as lovers, who, for a thousand reasons, could never touch,
the two of us kept our true feelings strangely silent.
Still, she and I persisted in speaking about everything and nothing,
as all the while, I longed to steal her away,
to savor her for myself.