I'm afraid to write about you.
In the event that you're gone,
you will have been made immortal
within the ink of these pages.

I'm afraid to write about you,
and the way you can caress my
body with your ocean eyes,
sending endless waves through me.

I'm afraid to write about the way
you breathe when you sleep, like
a metronome lullaby, keeping
perfect time with my own breath.

I'm afraid if I were to write about you,
that I'd never be able to rid myself
of your touch, even if I hadn't felt it
but in the dreams that'd haunt me.

Anyone who reads my work will
know you, nameless nonetheless.
I'm afraid to write about you,
but look what I've done.