you tell her
her eyes
are deep, reflective pools,
mesmerizing, you say

you compare her
to an angel,
and you call her the sun
which outshines all the other stars

you say
she is the sea
she is the sky
the stars, the moon,
and a million other things

you call her poetry, poetry

and she will love you for it
unbeknownst to her
that your words are not your own
but the words of every poet
who has ever loved