I loved Louise, but she could never know.
In class I would watch her, catch her eye from time to time.
If she needed help I was the first to volunteer.
She hated the way she danced.
She said, “The way my feet move, it’s not natural.”
I desperately wanted to help her…
To make her lover herself the way I loved her.
I hold back my desire to tell her she’s beautiful,
It is wrong of me to think such a thing about another woman,
I couldn’t ever let her know.
We could never be together, society won’t allow it.
It would be frowned upon, seen as something dreadful.
Loving someone shouldn’t be shamed.
I wonder if she’s ever thought of me in the way I think of her,
I wonder if she loves me too.