After every time you say to me It was good to see you But you know it was more than that.
You’ve also said we have the same eyes but we don’t see things the same.
If only my hand could craft words to be the source of us instead of us being the source for my words.
Using my hands to paint the reality I want instead of what I see. Giving life to us instead of a life being taken from us.
If you can’t read me at least you can read what I create after you’ve touched me.
This poem was inspired by my British Literature class, after learning about emission theory and reading some of Edmund Spenser's Amoretti sonnet sequence