In this poem the narrator wants someone, but they get the impression they doesn't want them, so they play it cool, thinking that it's better to hope for nothing than to expect something. Of course, the object of their affection always seems to be looking out for something better. grrrr.

Do not assume
to know how I feel:
I know better than
to let down my guard,
and I will never let
you close enough
to understand my heart.

I have disregarded
what I'm not to you
to solicit your affection,
watched you scour crowds,
pocketing open options,
looking for perfection.

As we whisper
our secret endearments
(while hiding in dark rooms),
be free to believe
in my transparency;
but you will never
know the truth.

The End

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