Crimson red is the sun
He appears to me as a vision–
a portrait of such fervour and charm.
An unknown trickle of desire flushes my thoughts.
That distant look
That unknown figure standing on his balcony,
with his quiet simplicity.
Looking at me
Enquiring my silence,
My froth of hidden emotions.
A smile, a revelation.
I do not know his name
He never asked mine–
our bond is one of silence,
Of acknowledged stares and polite distance.
Twice he passed me by
but we hardly let our eyes meet.
Even then a glance was enough,
as we turned our back to let our glistening shadows
follow our trajectories.
We are strangers unknown
Yet in those august meetings of fate,
We implore our innermost secrets
to settle on our eyes and looks.
Do we yearn to broker a friendship we never received?
Or do we invite stirrings of some passion unknown?
We are silent shadows crossing our thresholds,
and one fine day,
that unknown gleam may transcend the distance.