i know you. but we've never had a conversation.
not a single one.
i know your tastes in music,
i know you're a lucky man to have her.
i know it must be right.

i know you well enough to know
you can be trusted,
that you like beer,
that you and i would likely get along.

do you know me?
do you know how many times i've loved?
do you know how the illness eats,
how the waves drown, how the song sounds?
do you know this is about you?
you'll never read it,
so no, you don't.
the song drowns, the illness runs free and sick.
i'm so glad she has you, because that illness would eat her,
too.