There’s this path I’d take from my home to yours. It’s a winding road so long I’ll always be exhausted afterwards. So glad that at least you’re in reach, so sad that it’s rare we could meet. But I’ll be happy enough as long as you’ll wait, for I think of you each second—both in dream and in wake.
There’s this secret door I’d sneak through to get to you. Apparently, your parents are too ignorant to lock it after noon. So there I’ll wait, while you wake a flutter inside. It sends chills down my spine and trembles to my thighs.
There’s this look you give to me. I never knew what it could mean. Was it love, hate, or curiosity? But you saw me, and that’s enough. Your eyes are enough to calm me.
There’s this touch you do while grinning. I knew what it could only mean. A secret for others, for us alone it’s seen. I love so much of this of you. I go bonkers after this—your touch is the thing I always miss.
One day, I travelled that road. I snuck through the door and sat like a toad. I was in wait for you to come, but what I found was what would seal my fate.
You came out the door, knelt in front of me. Your parents came too, and I was so weary. I thought I’d be dead, a damsel deemed dirty.
They smiled and greeted me “daughter”. They asked if I’d accept their son. I asked with my eyes if this is something you’ve done. You laughed and took my hand. That’s when I knew. They’d let you take my hand. They let me have you.
Now, I go down the winding road each day. I close the door behind my way. I’m never again exhausted by this winding path, it’s true. It leads me to home—to you.