I count the hours till we're alone,
to take my sweet repast.
To savor every word you've written,
and make our moments last.

That you would deem me worthy
someone to share your dreams,
of stardust and deep desires,
of heartaches and moonbeams.

The love within each stanza,
and care within each line.
Crafted only just for me,
your precious thoughts, all mine.

As they were my only food,
my air, my blood, my breath,
I'll take them with me where e’er I go,
even unto my death.

My candle is now burning,
it waits to light your prose.
My heart is ever yearning,
my love for you, it grows.

Think not that I am lonely,
yet lonely I would be.
If your lines to me were broken,
and never more to see.