If I told you
you were a sonnet,
English, of course,
fourteen lines of excellence
capped with a heroic couplet,
you’d tell me you
only liked the Italian poets.
If I mentioned you
were as subtle as
Water Lilies,
you’d point out that
you preferred modernism
to French Impressionism,
and if I said I loved you,
would you agree with me,
for once?