Red rose incense gradually smoulders,
Shall I write to you?
While images of your face drift through my head
This love, my love for you is undying,
I pray one day you notice me
You grasp my hands,
We run away
And bestow me your love,
I obtain it so gratefully
I do not deserve such gifts
But my gift is the one fact that
I love you
Three simple words; one simple phrase.
But never directed at me
From your lips.