You’ve never written a poem about me, br He moaned one day, not a love poem, br She stared at him, words escaped her, br Could not reply, no words to say br br She’s tried before to write his poem, br Nothing stuck, nothing worked, br Mere words would not justify her love for him, br Words unworthy, even poetry br br No words that she wrote could describe such love, br Deepest emotions, the core of her, br Her heart and soul, air she breathes, br Blood that pumps through her every vein, br His feel, his touch, his smell, his taste, br The sound of his voice, the shape of his face br br What words could embrace such feelings in depth, br He is her sun, her earth, her moon, her sky, br He is her world by day and by night, br Her slumber, her wake, her darkness, her light, br He is her love, he is her life.