Dread the Next
I often wonder
by what device
a love is established.
It could be a devilry,
founded in lust and sin
and every selfish necessity.
Or it could be a thing of Heaven-
a blessing for my future.
A kind, guiding hand
upon by breast and eyes, saying,
You are meant to pursue.
I also wonder
if I might have any
say in the matter.
Is any impending attraction
out of my control?
It seems that way now.
For it wasn't my choice
to hear mention of anything at all.
But here I am with something
(more than anything!)
and, perchance, striding
towards certainty.
I just hope that it isn't one-sided.
Another something
becoming a crushing nothing
would truly
dread the next.
Though maybe after another,
I might discover
a way to take control of my
whims and emotions.
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