At every corner that I turn, a part
Of me imagines that you will be there;
While that sly smile that imbues my heart
With every kind of love prompts me to stare
And have you shake your head, impatiently
Asking why that look is on my face
So I can answer most untruthfully
It doesn't matter, and go on apace
Still thrilling with the image of your smile
Treasured in my eyelids' afterglow
Pretending for a momentary while
I can ignore its captivating slow
Fade out of view. But every time I turn
You are not there, and I must simply yearn.
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