Prime origin

To be happy one must be willing to allow love to blind them

"Come to me",

He whispered to my soul

"Gladly", it responded

Perhaps the greatest feeling is the one we are all scared of enduring

Perhaps we feel we shouldn't take a risk,

Or maybe we are the risk

Stroking my hair he began to discuss his faults,

Assuming I had any to share

Lowly he spoke,

As if alluring me

Gazing into my eyes he began picking my brain,

Guessing my thoughts,

In assurance some were of him

Doubtful I felt my demons laughing in them,

Why this man is truly in love they presumed,

"Why, this man is about as wrong of your feelings as you are."

Author's Note

Subtle poem of the thoughts of a woman who has unintentionally led a man to believe she loves him back.