Poetry Friday -- I haven't even spoken to you for

I haven't even spoken to you fora year now; still you lurk in all I write.How foolish, since I never touched you, norhad reason to expect I ever might.Then Dante was a fool, whose girlchild museseems hardly to have known he was alivemuch less loved back. So why should I not choosean awkward, nervous boy of twenty-five,who friend I tried, and tried, and failed to be?For Heaven's not my goal. I