Pardon My Wrong Readings

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As an eye-reader, her affection's clear,
Through glances, love's unspoken tale I trace,
Yet being a mind-reader, I hold dear,
A double-edged ability in its grace.

But oh, the mind's confusion, heavy weight,
As guesses go astray, misunderstand,
Regret for the paths that thoughts create,
A world of dreams and truths held in my hand.

Regret finds me, for in my guessing game,
Her thoughts and feelings veiled beyond my sight,
A jumble of emotions, without name,
A puzzle incomplete, a hidden light.

In her reflection, my own eyes I traced,
Misinterpreting the signals she conveyed,
A dance of feelings, mirrored in her grace,
A dialogue of love she purely displayed.

If she could glimpse my soul through my own eyes,
See the unwavering love that's held within,
A heartfelt wish, no need for disguise,
In eye-measured love, true hearts would begin.

If eyes could speak the language of the heart,
Our love's story, a masterpiece of art.

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