More than a creep

 
Brush back the lock of hair that isn't there,
Flash your palm and break my heart;
No comparison to the torture of my thoughts
Offered to God it lessens not the slightest.
Stay oblivious while I keep my distance,
My tether shorter still, but I still make conclusions from your desk.

If free, would I dare ask more than your scant wave and smile,
Your inadvertent so-pleasing lead,
My inappropriate so-lucky follow?
Painful precious seconds of near-certain delusion, still, it works for me because it has to.

My story;
Say nothing,
Do nothing,
Hope hopelessly.