There he stands, his gilded body I behold,
He is a desire left untold.
My soul finds him, in small glimpses in time,
To seek the memories in the cold embrace of my mind.
For he is something I touched, but not held;
Someone I knew but not well;
A high half-climbed, a love half-sought,
An agony within the world lying unbeknownst.

But there he stands, his gilded body I behold,
Mysteries within left untold.
In a quaint nook, hidden by the rye,
Someplace the world does not pry,
Unravel your knots and all that you hide,
And you will see what awaits to betide,
You enrapture all by the glistening gold you bequeath,
But find that I will love the auburn rust beneath.

So there he stands, gilded in gold,
Within ardent flames of love, lying untold.

© Netra.