exploratory trespass

So, 

I wrote a shamelessly fond
and devoted exploration 
of you, or some idea. Over which
I had no right, which I know

But, 

I thought I'd toss it out 
to the world! Without
your name for any or you
to spot or not, for any 
to secretly openly know 
what I'm getting at, which 
anyway, is beautiful

And 

for its own sake, really. Just
a jot and a lick 
and a spot of paint 
outspread in licensed ways 
of artifice or poetry, 
maybe a shot or a swerve
of aesthetic wish or want,
just gently pricked
and bled its bliss
naive and blithe, 
and own. 

That's how sake is.
Self-supervised, directed
and grown by natures intrinsic
and sensible, or inscrutable.     
It isn't a game, all rules 
with no play or win in them.
It's just a statement, tender
and plain

And accurate
as a gentleman,
or a paradox,
or anything else
one could describe 
for profit or gain    
I hope and guess, 

Or just for itself:
the doing of it. 
Some joyous plaint 
or paean of words,
trying to catch 
as best one gets.