Could love really mean
Being able to extend our selves emotionally
Into the reality of others?
I wanted to write a poem
In which I compared you
To all the lovely things I know
The sun, the moon, the fire, the ice
To tell you I see nebulae in your eyes
But when I thought it through
All the way to the end
I realized, for sake of verse, I can’t pretend;
There’s none compares to you.
The sun is dull, it sheds no light.
The moon is new – dark and dreary night.
The fire is out, now ash and dirt.
The ice is melted – water, back to the earth.
And in your eyes
I see no stars…
I see no distant skies…
There are no words, no flowing lines
What is there cannot be described…