Keen

I am keen on knowing you,
Everyday a little more,
With every coming tide, surely,
I am keen on you:
Ages ago I wanted you,
But how soon the levy broke.
The patience of a heart runs out,
But its longing, remains.
I remain keen on you, dear,
Thinking about you all these months,
When you are away,
Trying not to remember;
I am different now,
And I assume you are, too.
Seeing you is my reward,
The merit of my wait, the sight of you,
Beautiful and unfathomable, stark,
My triumph is time for you and me,
Alone, the two of us,
But for the world to see,
They know you and they know me,
But only on the surface,
And I can the surface and smile,
I can see your depths and sigh,
I can claim dominion over you,
But I do so without pride,
Or, perhaps, with the foolish type.
You are not mine, my dear.
But how the years that passed and those that pass:
Repeat, constantly and endlessly,  
Earnestly, undoubtedly,
I remain keen on knowing you,
Whomever you may be, my dear,
And I could love you, angel,
Hell, maybe one day I will.