unrequited love

on my mind in my mind circumnavigating like a hug that never was should have been but wasn't it never stops does it maybe at death but then what doesn't or what does it'll never be reported that is what I feel which is like warming one's feet by a fire dancing in the moonlight watching the starry heavens listening to nature writing a poem not for any reason other than capturing pure inspiration in eternal ink does it matter if one is well, loved for how dost love be known by physical deeds by words spoken by deeds undone by words withheld by a look by a touch by a thought one never will know it’s a personal undoing loving someone for never should it be expected that your actions or words would be returned but To Hear is to have Heard is to be Heard is to Hear the unspoken language of love… of us