Anonymity

He loves my countenance, although it's dark  
And seems quite lost in shadow; he's aware  
That verses stimulate and make their mark  
And may go further than hot prose could dare;  
 
And when the words cascade and rhyme. the flows  
Form infinite, tumultuous descents,  
While no one is cognisant, then it shows  
That close connection ensures I repent;  
 
If pleasure unrequited just restores  
A certain differential, then I'll thrive;  
Though I will not be pinned down, this ensures  
Such opportunities can tantalise;  
 
Yes, I'm content to leave my muse quite free,  
From close encounters, veiled in mystery.