Odd

Odd, Sparing glances pass between them, a silent understanding, They know what they felt, what still lingers Yet it's odd how they keep this distance, a careful act, Close alone, and far apart in public's glance. Intimate moments are few, but the memory stays, A spark remains, though hidden from the day. They're aware of the feelings that still reside, But in the light, they wear a different guise. It's odd how they balance this fragile line, A mix of truth and a hidden design. They know their hearts, though they don't say, Keeping this act up, day by day.