The secret lover
I don't care who steals you
from your friends and truest lovers,
I don't care who kisses you and fondles you,
your opportunism is your own affair
and no concern of mine,
and neither is your scheming calculation and ingratitude;
we are poor devils living idealistically
and are therefore free to use whatever means
fate offers us for opportunities;
my distant silence shall the more be eloquent
and echo universally the obviousness of my unhappy love,
for no one loves more honestly than those who suffer for it.
Let my ague then be evidence enough
that I alone was your supreme and only perfect lover
who expressed it best by suffering in silence.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2007-12-10 at 13:06
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