“It’s not love if you don’t see him as your favorite line in Shakespeare’s poem.” she said.
“But what happens if he’s more than just a line? if he’s the poem I write every night, much less the most beautiful one I have ever written?” I asked.
“I hope you did not let yourself reach that point. For if he’s your poetry, and you are just the poet, you’ll soon have no use when he’s gone. You’ll still be a poet, sure. But the kind who has lost her pen, and worse, lost the power over her words.” she replied.