Poem One

I say I love you,

Yet I cannot recover 

The impression of your hand in mine. 

I say I love you,

Yet the taste of your lips

Is a hazy flavour. 

I say I love you, 

Yet your honey voice  

Is just an imagining.  

I love you. 

But love unrequited 

Is no real love at all.

Author's Note

I intend to do a bit of jumbling and extending. Just a base. I find this is the hardest subject for me to write about.