T.S. Eliot (Introspective Confession)

As she laughed I was conscientious Of transformational consequences Suddenly becoming fully realized In my eyes-- the bearer of compliments-- The longing ensnarer of fire Pronging the shared stare of our desire As other people more near interfere And steal us from how much we care When our prepared hands feel each other's touch Lush with fruitful trust Plucked from our minds in the bare Designs of so much more than lust And all that we never said Is fed with hushed discussions Over breakfast in bed Yet we hold our crutch of suitable silverware And march on separate paths With a mutual memory That lasts Sentimentally attached To an attraction indentured, Existing only mentally, Consisting of thoughts not unheard, Essentially conjured In the essence of introspective confession.