i have such an urge
to tell you of all
the beautiful poems
i had spent nights creating
in memory of the day
in memory of the way
i fell in love with you
how madly i wanted to love you.
special enough
to carry a whisper of your name
deep within their meaning
a whisper of how much you meant to me
a whisper of how much you mean to me
so impossibly beautiful
that it makes me afraid
so very afraid
that you will scan
my written words
over and over again
with the same hazel eyes
the same eyes
that i saw galaxies in
the same eyes
that i still see galaxies in
and see nothing
but lost letters
on a sheet of paper.