I have begun walking in the park.
It is good exercise, they tell me, but I don't think that is why I do it.
I feel you near me here beneath the sycamores, where the wind touches my cheek and my ears listen for your steps. I imagine those are your fingers brushing up close to me. Your toes snapping smartly along the walkway.
Are you only an echo in my imagination, or is some part of you actually here?
I may never know. Just like I may never know you, but I like to believe it is so.
Elusive lover who lives inside my head, you can be as perfect as I choose.
And though I may swoon over your sweet face and gentlemanly ways, you will never break my heart, or make me cry.
Except
Because
In spite of myself
I love you.
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