She is a secret rune,
and by ancient rule,
refuses to share her innermost thoughts;
her feelings unspoken, sacred mysteries.
I am a ghost,
banished from her inner world,
hovering expectantly at the edge
of her hidden garden;
an afterthought in her peripheral vision.
I sacrifice my thoughts, my feelings, my insecurities
on her altar of objectivity,
while she vanishes behind brick walls of a folly.
She laughs, she speaks, she whispers secrets,
but not to me.