Knife of Sentiment

But what would she ever know of loving him?
Sitting in her chair, sipping on rich wine,
Lacy gloves, blind eyes.
She would never see him the way he saw her.
He saw her eyes, shockingly divine,
Saw the feeling in them.
There was nothing that she understood.
What the girl did not know was herself.
This wasn’t love, this perfectly blissful feeling, too light to be called so.
How the man longed to be her lover.
Unable to ignore the unreal stretch of childish sentiments,
He stretched out his hand to take hers, and pulled his ring off her finger,
Throwing the knife into the water.