People hide their love
L. Berkeley
Who says
That it's by my desire,
This separation, this living so far from you?
My dress still smells of the lavender you gave me:
My hand still holds the letter you sent.
Round my waist I wear a double sash:
I dream that it binds us both with a same-heart knot.
Did not you know that people hide their love,
Like the flower that seems too precious to be picked?