A Letter to a Friend
If I were to write this letter for a friend,
With words so tender, they might bend—
Not to romance, but something more—
A bond that lust cannot explore.
If I should sign it with my soul,
Each line a pulse, each verse a whole
Of every truth I hold sincere—
Would such a letter seem… queer?
But tell me, is it truly strange
That love, in friendship, has wide range?
Much deeper than the fleeting fire
That lovers chase with raw desire.
For in your eyes, I find a light
That calms my storms and feels so right.
No tangled sheets or midnight sighs—
Just steady hearts and open skies.
My passion flows in words I send,
Not for a flame, but for a friend.
No stolen kiss or whispered vow—
Just sacred trust, here and now.
So let the world misjudge or mock,
Let critics point, let cynics gawk—
They cannot see the golden thread
Between our spirits, gently spread.
I love you with a fiercer grace
Than time or touch or warm embrace.
No need for roses on the bed—
Your name lives loud inside my head.
And if this letter seems too much,
Too soft, too bright, too quick to touch,
Then let it be my small defense—
That friendship holds the most immense
Of passions, fierce and ever true—
And that, dear friend, I give to you.

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