A quick little notesy:
Okay, this is a really sappy poem. But whatever,
I like cute little romantic stuff. Anyway, this little poem
is written from Hannibal's POV while he is in Clarice's
bedroom watching her sleep.

---------^---@

As I watch you lying there,
motionless aside from your steady breathing,
I listen, listen to your heartbeat,
as if it were my way of assuring you were alive.
I think to myself,
Dr. Lecter, you are far to protective,
but those scoldings are overwhelmed by this immense feeling...
I think they call it love.
I wouldn't know for sure, though, since it happens so...
so rarely.
I lift a piece of auburn hair from your face and look at you,
like an angel,
smiling in your sleep.
Why do you smile, my little Starling?
is it because you dream of a life without me?
...
or perhaps, with me.
I don't think I'll ever know.
But sometimes, it's nice to wonder.


FIN