I'm still in shock.*

I haven't written in a while, love;
Not because I've stopped loving you,
But because I've only just begun.

And I'm still in shock that you
Love me back,
Even if you weren't quite ready to say it
As you told me your thoughts through
The open door of my car,
That one Sunday.

Yes, I love you, too, my love.
And though these messy brushstrokes of thought are uncomposed,
They are intentional,
And they are true.

I just wish I could love you more,
As I watch what I hope is only the sunset
Fade from your eyes.