How small I am in my eyes.
May I see me as tall as you do.
My underestimation
keeps me from the gestation
of the universe within me
aching to explode.

I brush your love,
and I am in a tizzy;
feet bare and loose
on the grass and soil,
reaching the far stretches
of land like the sea;
skies dappled with
large clouds, as blue and clear
as a baby's set of eyes;
love so deep and cavernous,
and wedged deep into the earth,
a depth of which I could not fathom;
strong and mischievous like the wind
in a storm of your emotions,
wrecking civilizations like they were
made out of paper.

You left me in awe
when you told me that
your love was boundless
like the universe.

So imagine my surprise
about the depth of your love
when I had once underestimated it
so much. When I brushed you off
like lint on my coats and shirts. Not
deeming you worthy of my time, as I watched you move and love another.

I have never stated that the love I had witnessed was ever mine.

A fatal flaw
of selflessness
that is humbling
on paper
but self-destructive.