"I loved her simply because I found her irresistible.
I knew my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. Once for all; I loved her none the less because I knew it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection."

Can you tell?
Too shy to speak,
too cold to hold,
with sleeves too short to wear our hearts on,
we sit around, stoned in silence
and steal stares at each other
and scrunch our faces asking "what?"
which is always met with a "nothing"
with a smile.

"What?"
"Nothing."