People don't understand
me and you.

I see eyebrows raised
and gossips' tongues at the ready
as soon as we so much as brush hands -
and the tales they'd tell would be true.

"I love him."

They all recoil in susprise
at my boldness. They thought I would
make up some story to sugar
what they sem to see as a crime -
but no. I'm sick of lying. I won't
hide in the shadows any longer. I won't
pretend you're a stanger.

You're not.

You're the other half of my heart
and a massive slab of my life. You're the start
of each morning; the end of each night; the grey
hours in between. So let them say
whatever they want. I'll tell the truth.

"I love him."