The First Poem About Our Love

I keep thinking

Lately,

How we can say something

a thousand times,

only to discover that…

you don’t actually know what it means.

How many love notes have I written you?

How many about our love?

How many professing mine?

How many have you read?

Because I still have a thousand,

Tucked away,

Hidden from your eyes.

So many parts of myself on a page,

Not good enough for you to read.

But not much of me actually is?