There’s unrequited love 
hidden between broken lines,
ineligible truths obfuscated 
like poetry in really small font;
eyebrows waxed and waned,
lips attempting articulation
of those words too small 
for any eye to see;
a minuscule Donne dancing 
across bleached parchments
without rhyming couplets
for support. 
There’s unrequited love
hidden behind every line of poetry, 
under every song sung
and in every kiss 
abandoned.