My words are dressed with fear;
my lips, painted with blur;
once silent, I'll adhere,
believe my heartbeat's spur;
when better love's unclear;
so then, the heartaches were,
for we adore the mere;
to glorify this hurt,
only our hearts could hear;
only us, fools prefer;
when contracts freeze for years
but feelings bloom with burns;
so never skip the near;
and never doubt the sure;
but never speak the clear;
and never seal what's pure.
